


Asleep

by aqueenofokay



Series: Awake [3]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueenofokay/pseuds/aqueenofokay
Summary: Asleep ; Adjective & adverbIn or into a state of sleep. Not attentive or alert; inactive. Having no feeling; numb.They thought that Evan was gone forever. They thought that peace had come. However, the world isn't done with them yet. A revolution is always met with resistance and ghosts never really go away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this chapter with the next La La Land update and I won't be continuing this fic until La La Land is done! In the meantime, if you haven't read the first fic in this series, Awake, make sure you do before reading this fic!! Thank you so much for the support!!!

“He was a martyr.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the dark room. “He died for Old Town...And Old Town no longer exists. We cannot let his effort end like this. He has more to give to this cold world.”

  
“His body is gone. How can we let him continue to exist?”

  
“His consciousness lived on. We don’t need any machinery to let him live. One of the doctors who had let Evan die said that he wrote letters to one of his friends. She said that in these letters were his understanding of how one can live on in memory. That young New Town boy, the hero, he remembers Evan with love despite only knowing him through the machine.” The dim room was full of those who had once been Old Towners. Now there was just New Towners which weighed heavily on the Old Towners. They don’t want to be who they were fighting against.

  
“He will keep him alive...Evan will tell him what he must do. That boy will do what he says.”

  
“How can you be so sure?”

  
“Because of love.” Smoke swirled through the dim room as the fire in the middle suddenly burned brighter than it had before. Despite the fire, chills ran through everyone in the room. The sound of the chanting spilled onto the cold street, whispering on the freezing wind with the snowflakes.

  
Snowflakes floated through the cold air. This high up, the whole world looked like it was covered in snow. Remembering his history class, Jonathan assumed that it probably was. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the cold and the snow. The wall had come down and so had many of the towers in New Town. The old became the new and the new became the old. The towers that remained were to be connected with bridges, the higher the better for the fear in Old Towners could not go away no matter how much the New Towners promised it would be different. Much of New Town was under construction, torn down buildings and ruin lining the once neon streets. A year and a half had passed but there was still so much to do. Sitting up high on one of the half way completed bridges, Jonathan watched the snowflakes fall from the gray sky.

  
“See it’s snowing!”

  
“Snow? All I see is white. Is that snow?” Jonathan smiled at the memory of Evan and his wonder. A sting of grief struck his heart and his smile faded, reminding him that he had work to do. With a small sigh, he picked up his blowtorch, and slid his mask back in place, sparks flying around him as he wielded the metal together. He had wanted to work to help create a new city even though he didn’t have to. He preferred the time it gave him to be alone.

  
The sound of the dinner bell echoed up to Jonathan, high up on his bridge. He looked down, seeing the workers gather below. They all lived together, sleeping stacked on bunk beds and sitting shoulder to shoulder during meals. No one was truly alone.

  
Attaching his harness to the tall ladder, Jonathan gathered up his tools and eased himself onto the ladder. Placing his feet on either side, he slid down the cold ladder, the ground rushing up to meet him as the occasion spark flew from the metal clip that attached him to the ladder; that kept him from falling to his death.

  
“How is it up there?” A voice called out as Jonathan reached the ground.

  
“Cold…” He unhooked himself from the ladder, turning to the tall man. “Like always, Tyler. How's it going down here?”

  
“Same as always. A fight broke out though a few hours ago. A former New Towner and an Old Towner got into a scuffle.” Tyler said as they made their way to the dining hall. On the outside, wrapped up in his work clothes, jacket, and scarf, one would have never guessed that Tyler had almost died. His chest and shoulder were a mess of scar tissue that on especially cold mornings, would be sore and remind him too clearly of the pain he went through.

  
“That isn't surprising. Of course, people aren't going to accept this right off the bat.” Jonathan sighed. He wished they would.

  
“Well, you did what you could. Just let the world work now.” Tyler smiled, patting him on the back. Jonathan nodded, following Tyler to the dining hall.

“Hey hey! Stop it!” Voices yelled from the makeshift hall. The wooden doors were pushed open to reveal to the warm and crowded hall. A knife flew past Jonathan's cheek, burying itself in the wood behind him.

  
“Knock it off, Lui! It's been two weeks since the last accident. Let's keep it that way!” Tyler yelled over the roar of the hall at the small man standing on the bench, his right fingers curled around the handles of knives. “Stop encouraging him, Brock.”

  
“He did it all on his own.” Brock defended himself with a smile as they sat down beside him.

  
“He encouraged me a little.” Lui smiled. Meals were always warm I'm every sense of the word. While outside it snowed, inside it was warm. Hot drinks and bowls of soup had steam swirling into the air around them and they all sat so close together, no one could possibly be cold. Yet Jonathan always felt like something was missing. His hands would reach for something that wasn't there anymore. There was no warm red glow and no owl eyes.  
He didn't know how long he had stood there on that cold, creaking bridge. He didn't know how many gallons of freezing water had surged below him. All he knew was that when he looked up, it was dark and above him were so many stars but instead of reminding him of all the beautiful things and of doing the right thing, they reminded him that he was alone.

  
“You...You...threw him off the bridge?” Tyler had been shocked. The heartbreak spread across his face so quickly, Jonathan couldn't do anything but sit at his bedside and let him cry.

  
“I didn't throw him...He wanted it. He couldn't live like that.” Jonathan had finally said.

  
“After all we did! After all we did! For nothing!” Tyler had yelled, pulling his stitches as he sat up. Blood had blossomed on the white gauze.

  
“It wasn't for nothing! Stop being selfish!” Jonathan had yelled back. “We made sure that this will never happen ever again! No one is going to hurt Evan ever again! Or anyone else! No one is going to steal from someone else's mind ever again!”

  
Tyler didn't talk to Jonathan for awhile after that. When it felt like grief had loosened its grip on the small home, the boys came back to each other, struggling to find where they fit in in this new world.

 

  
After dinner, it was too dark to continue work and the snow had picked up. The cold wind pinched Jonathan's cheeks as he put his head down and walked with Tyler and the others to their cabin. When he wasn't working, Jonathan was never truly alone. Maybe no one wanted to be alone.

  
“Jonathan…” The wind suddenly picked up, yanking the scarf from around Jonathan's neck. He turned, bending down to pick it up. As he stood back up, shaking the snow from the scarf, a flash of red caught his eye. A figure stood in the snow, too far away for him to make out who it was. Behind the figure, the dining hall door opened, light spilling onto the snow. Jonathan realized he could see the hall through the figure. The ghost stared at Jonathan for a moment longer before suddenly fading away with another gust of cold wind.

  
“Jonathan! Come on!” Lui called out.

  
“Coming!” Jonathan called back, looking at the spot where the ghost had stood just a moment before. He turned and ran to catch up with the others, hurrying up the wooden stairs to the door where Lui stood, keeping it open for him.

“What were you doing?”

  
“The wind...it caught my scarf.” Jonathan said as he stepped inside the warm cabin. The door closed, blocking out the harsh wind. Jonathan headed towards his bunk, sitting down on the creaky mattress. The bed frame shook louder as Tyler suddenly climbed up the small ladder to the bunk on top.

  
“Are you okay, Jon? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Brock asked with a smile from where he lay on his bunk, his book open in front of him on the pillow.

“I'm fine. There is no such thing, Brock. Ghosts don't exist.” Jonathan said, pushing away what he had seen. He untied his boots, pulling them off in a splatter of dirt and snow.

  
“Old Towners believe in ghosts.” Lui said from the bunk above Brock. “This world isn't black and white. It's full of magic, of things you can't explain with science and math.” Lui said as he sat up. “I've heard crazy stories from Old Towners. They’ve seen demons in some of those old buildings. I've heard of some people claiming to be posses-”

  
“Yeah yeah.” Jonathan tried to ignore Lui as he pulled off his overalls and crawled under his blankets. Though this world was better, Jonathan missed his old bed and his view. That was all crumbled now. No one would ever stand that high up ever again.

  
“Did you see a ghost?” Brock whispered to Jonathan, his tone serious.

  
“Turn the light off.” Jonathan snapped. The light went out with a click, the room plunged into darkness. Jonathan glanced at the dark window across the room and found himself rolling over to face the wall, fear washing over him. It was stupid. There is no such thing. He began to count in his mind, numbers dancing around him as he fell asleep. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five…"

  
Jonathan opened his eyes, looking down at the rushing water below him. He stood on the big bridge, hearing the creaking metal and the crash of icicles hitting the cement bridge deck. A cold wind whipped around him, stinging his cheeks and bringing tears to his eyes.

  
“Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten…”

  
He was falling, twisting and flipping through the air. He reached for the bridge, seeing his own figure staring down at him.

  
“Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen…”

  
He hit the water, falling beneath the dark, swirling waves of the river. Jonathan gasped, wanting to struggle against the current but he found himself unable to. He was thrown into the shockingly cold water, trapped and unable to stop the red glow around him from flickering out.

  
“Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty…”

  
Through the darkness, a hand reached out and grabbed onto Jonathan. It was soft and kind, the arm wrapped in red leather with white stripes near the shoulder. And then, Evan was there, his red jacket floating around him as he held onto Jonathan, keeping him from slipping into the current. Jonathan wanted to grab onto Evan who gave him a small, comforting smile but he couldn’t move. He didn’t know if it was because of the cold or if it was because of something else. Maybe this was how Evan had felt.

  
“Don’t go.”

  
Jonathan awoke with a gasp, early morning light drifting through the thin curtain, illuminating the dust that floated through the air.

  
“Jonathan?” He looked up, seeing Tyler hanging his head over the edge of the bunk above him, looking down at him with wide eyes. “Are you alright?”

  
“Yeah...Yeah, I’m fine.” He got off his bed, reaching for his work suit. Lui was already awake, dressed in his work clothes and laying on top of his bunk, reading from a literature tablet, the blue glow on his face. Below him, Brock still snored.

  
“Another nightmare?” Tyler asked, jumping down from the bunk. Jonathan didn’t want to think of Evan as nightmarish but the feelings of the dream were the worst he felt.

  
“Yeah…” Jonathan nodded slowly, stepping into his work clothes.

  
“You can’t keep grieving like this, Jon. It’s not healthy. I got my grieving done early before you showed up with that machine. I’ve been there. Don’t let this continue, Jon. You have to start letting go.” Tyler placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s been over a year.”

  
“It’s not easy, Tyler.”

  
“I know...You have to try to make an effort to make it easy.” Tyler sighed. By nine, they were in the dining hall, the smell of coffee and eggs wafting through the warm air. Jonathan sat beside Tyler and the others, not listening to their loud conversations. He couldn’t stop thinking about his dream and Evan. He had been so real. It had been as though he had been resurrected, he had seemed so real. Jonathan told himself to forget about it. His dreams were nothing more than what they were, dreams. He had been raised to believe in logic, in things that could be proven rationally.

  
By nine thirty, he was clipping himself to the ladder, and gave a yank on the metal wire that pulled him high into the air; it was far easier to have a pulley system than climbing hundreds of stories into the air. Jonathan watched the world get smaller and smaller below him. Alone with his thoughts high up on the small bridge, he remembered what it had felt like to drop Evan. His heart had broken and no matter how hard he tried to stitch it back up, the seems always seemed to break again, reminders of the pain everywhere. In the snow, in the red lights at the top of the towers, in Tyler’s smile and in the books that Lui recommended he read. Grief was now his constant companion.

  
Sparks flew around Jonathan as he wielded, his nagging thoughts drowned out by the loud sounds of construction around him. Movement caught Jonathan’s eye who looked up from his work to see a large military helicopter on the horizon, coming towards the city. He turned the welder off, watching the helicopter get closer. The work around him slowed as people looked up, the sounds of welding and hammering dying down.

  
The helicopter was above Jonathan now, seeming to hover for a moment as a rocket was fired at Jonathan’s bridge. He could do nothing to stop the force from throwing him off the platform. He fell for a few seconds, staring up at the crumbling bridge above him before the cable tightened and caught his fall, swinging him against the wall of the building. He cried out as he crashed into the wall, the force knocking the rest of the air out of his lungs.

  
Instead of swinging himself towards the ladder to get down, Jonathan could only stare at the world below him where the helicopter landed, firing rockets at the workers. Explosions rocked the buildings around them, blood falling on the snow. Military machines exited the helicopter, their torsos crudely painted red, white stripes wrapping around their upper arms. They shot at the running workers who were defenseless. All weapons had either been destroyed or locked away from the public months ago, expecting no one to fight ever again. Jonathan watched some of the workers fall wounded or dead to the snow. He didn’t know where his friends were. He didn’t know if he would survive up here, if he could just stay here and hang helplessly, far up above the violence.

  
Then a voice echoed up to him. When the voice should have been soft, it was hard. When it should have been full of beauty, it was full of blood.

  
“Do not try to fight back! Resistance is futile!” Jonathan felt sick. “New Town will return!” It was Evan’s voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La La Land is done so I will be getting Asleep posted frequently now! Remember this is a sequel so make sure to read 'Awake' first! Thank you all so much for the support! Also make sure to check out my twitter @aqueenofokay!

“If you were to disappear, would you be missed?”

“I think so. I like to think so.”

“You never disappeared…” Jonathan swung slowly from his harness, the thick metal cable his saviour from the violence below. He heard screams and saw people he knew, people who just a few moments ago had been laughing and wondering what was for lunch, fall to the snow where blood blossomed around their cold bodies. It was then that Jonathan noticed the figure in red looking up at him. He didn't run when a machine moved towards him nor the machines fire at him. Jonathan watched as the machine walked right through the figure who didn't seemed phased at all by it. “The fuck…” Jonathan had to get down there. His fear melted and was replaced by anger. He spun around, pressing his feet against the wall and pushed off, reaching desperately for the ladder. Bullets suddenly ricocheted off the metal, sparks flying as he cried out in panic and fell back against the wall. He looked down again and the figure in red was gone but Tyler was there now, yelling up at him as he ran. There was no weapons, there was nothing to fight back with. They were dead.

“Jonathan!” He heard Tyler’s voice faintly call. “Inside! Guns!” Looking at the tower that he was attached to, Jonathan realised what he meant. There were a few guns left, locked in a safe room in the tower. It seemed convenient but Jonathan knew it wouldn't be enough. “Jonathan!”

“I got it!” He yelled back, watching Tyler run towards the hall where the others had gathered for protection, finding anything in the kitchen that could serve as a weapon. Jonathan looked up at the pulley that kept him in the air, then down at the thick glass window a few floors below him where it would be. Looking farther down, the machines were noticing him.

He pulled sharply on the rope and began to slowly move down, jumping off only to land back on the wall a few feet below. A whistling noise caught his attention and he turned to see the rocket flying up towards him. He pressed himself against the wall and watched it crash into the top of the tower, his pulley system suddenly failing. Jonathan screamed as he began to fall, the rope slipping from his hands. He grabbed on as tightly as he could, suddenly stopping his fall a few floors below the one he wanted. He was still above the ground at a dizzying height and the fall had left him rattled. He hung there for a few moments, trying to steady his breathing.

“Do what is right.”

“I will.” Jonathan answered the whispering wind. He gripped the rope and began to climb, not looking down at the machines that were getting angrier, their stolen voices echoing up to him. He climbed to just above the window he needed, pressing the soles of his feet against the glass before pushing off with as much force as he could. He swung away from the building, glancing down at the machines as he swung, flying back towards the window. His shoulder collided with the glass, cracking it but it wasn't enough. A bullet flew past him, whistling in his ear. “Fuck, fuck.” Jonathan didn't want to do this. He wanted to run but he knew he had no other choice. He had to do what was right. He swung himself back again and collided into the glass that suddenly broke. He continued to fall into the room, crashing through the glass-covered floor. The room was dark and empty. It had been completely cleared out, first by fire, then by people after the fall of the Wall. “Ow...fuck..” Jonathan pulled himself up from the floor, wincing as he got to his feet. He looked around, knowing that the last few guns they had would be in one of the locked rooms down the hall from him.

A sudden force pulled Jonathan back, sending him falling back to the floor and pulled him to the now broken window. He came to a stop right at the edge, the cold wind whipping around him. His left leg dangled dangerously over the edge. Looking down, he saw the machine that had pulled on the cord that had been his saviour till now. The machine laughed him with Evan’s laugh.

“You’re dead now.”

“They can fucking fly now…” Jonathan’s eyes widened as the machine seemed to rush up towards him, a jet pack in its shoes keeping it up. He quickly pulled the heavy clip keeping the cord attached to him off and threw it over the edge towards the machine and rolled, pulling his leg back up over the side as he managed to get back inside. The machine rushed past the broken window as Jonathan ran towards the door, weighed down by his equipment. He tried to open the door but it had been locked from the other side. He stepped back and kicked the handle once, then twice. The door suddenly swung open as bullets shot past him, embedding themselves in the wall beside and in front of him. He staggered into the hallway, falling against the far war and managed to run down the dark hallway as fast as he could. He could hear the machine following him, yelling at him with Evan’s voice. Jonathan could have sworn that he had this nightmare before.

He reached the locked door, flailing his arm out to grab onto the handle as the machine caught up to him. He kicked the handle once, then twice, the door swinging open. For once, he was thankful for the freezing cold. The room was empty save for one table and the handful of guns laid upon it. However, Jonathan didn't grab one of the guns. Leant against the leg of the table was a baton which Jonathan’s fingerless gloved hand curled around and swung at the machine’s throat. The machine staggered back, sparks flying. The red and white chipping paint on the machine glimmered in the dim light. The machine turned its head, its red eyes seeming to narrow at him.

“Evan taught you that...So why do you think it would work with me? I’m the better version of Evan. The one that knows his tricks and yours. You’ll need to be smarter.” The machine laughed and fired at Jonathan. A bullet grazed his arm, blood splattering as the fabric of his jacket ripped. Jonathan cried out as he fell back against the table, gripping the edge for support. “New Town will return! Life has come too far to be crushed by you.”

“You aren't life! You're not living!” Jonathan cried

“That's funny coming from you.” The machine spat. Jonathan paused, wondering what the machine meant but had no time to think more deeply about it. He fumbled for a gun, lifting the silver handgun and aimed at the machine. Bullets bounced off its head, seeming to phase it but nothing more. The machine lunged at him, throwing him across the table. Jonathan hit the cold floor, managing to roll and shoot at the machine again, this time aiming for the throat. Sparks flew as a wire snapped, the machine stopping in shock.

“You aren't Evan. You don't know what he knows!” Jonathan pulled the trigger again as he moved closer to the machine. The machine suddenly fell, sparks, dust and snow flying around Jonathan as he emptied the clip into the war machine. “Fuck…” Jonathan sighed, his legs giving out as the adrenaline suddenly left him. Trying to catch his breath, he stared at the machine, noticing the pattern of the paint. It was supposed to be Evan’s jacket. “Where did you come from…?” Jonathan wondered aloud. Taking another deep breath, he got to his feet and gathered up all the guns and ammo he could carry into an old military green bag. He hurried back down the hall, towards the stairs. The long spiralling white staircase was cold, everything seeming to be frozen in time after everyone left it. He had lived in this building once, had dreamed of a beautiful future from this building. Now it was half burned and haunted to him.

Down thirty-seven flights of stairs, the whole way trying to push the memory of such a hateful Evan out of his mind. Jonathan stumbled, struggling to catch his breath as he ran. He finally reached the ground floor, falling onto the door as it burst open and staggered outside into the cold snow. He tripped over a body suddenly, snow and guns flying up around him.

“I got you.” Arms suddenly wrapped around Jonathan’s arms, pulling him up to his feet. Tyler grabbed a fallen gun, the shots echoing painfully in Jonathan’s ears as they ran towards the hall. “I got you…” Tyler said again as they pushed open the doors, warm air and light surrounding them. He could hear yelling and gunshots but it sounded so far away from him. He sat down on one of the benches, running his bloodied hands through his hair. His arm stung painfully but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

Someone had stolen Evan’s voice. They had stolen Evan.

  


“It was Evan’s voice…”

“No...No, it wasn’t...Not really...It wasn’t really his voice.” Brock stammered. “Evan was never that angry.”

“So what is this?” Lui cried. “You were the one that threw him off a god damned bridge, Jonathan. What is this?”

“I don’t know…” Jonathan laid on his bunk, his arm bandaged tightly. While the others argued, Jonathan tried to distract himself with stitching a patch over the hole on his jacket, still trying to understand the fact that someone had stolen Evan. “Why would someone do that…?”

“They want to take New Town back! Destroy all of our progress! We’re screwed!” Lui yelled.

“We’re missing something…” Tyler suddenly said, sliding off his bunk and landed on the floor.

“Missing what? Like where the fuck these things came from?”

“No...No there is something else...We need to go back to the fifth floor.” Tyler said as he turned to face Jonathan. He sat up slowly, painful memories floating through his mind.

“I’m not going back there.” Jonathan whispered.

“I don’t want to either...and it’s probably been gutted by fire but there might be something there...Something we’re missing.” Tyler said. “Please come with me.”

“Tyler...I...His body might still…”

“I know, Jonathan. Please come with me.”

“I said I can’t go back there, Tyler! I can’t fucking go back to that fucking floor!” Jonathan yelled, getting to his feet. “I can’t fucking go!”

“You’re the only one that knows that tower, Jon! Do you not want to find out why this happened?” Tyler cried. “After everything...The least we can do is make sure that Evan stays dead!”

“He's been dead since the start!” Jonathan felt so tired, his temper flaring. “Because of what my father did, Evan is trapped in a fucking cycle! A cycle that will never end so long as his consciousness still exists somewhere on a computer chip! We can destroy a chip and keep him dead till the next Evan is created and we destroy that one! Don't you get it? Evan is immortal now at the will of anyone who knows how to use a computer! And it's no coincidence that of all the chips, it's Evan that came back to kill us! Someone wants to fuck with us! They want to get in our heads and hurt us with him because we love him and they can make him real again and just as easily take him away! So go ahead! Go back to the fifth floor but that is what this asshole wants you to do! This is a game!” Jonathan screamed. The cabin fell silent. “I’m done playing games.”

“Jonathan…” Tyler sighed. “I know that something is there. Something that I missed before. And...And whatever happens, it's on me. It's on me because I wanted to go back.”

“No!” Jonathan suddenly yelled, making the others jump. “I-I’m sorry… But no...Just not tonight...Not now. Not right after that.” Jonathan laid back down on his bed, returning to the patch he wanted to stitch over the hole. It was a very old, silly owl patch.  Though the gold thread had faded to white with time, he still wanted it. He had found it when the buildings in New Town were being ransacked. It had been in a large trunk in his parent’s room among old uniforms from the war. There had been three patches. He took them all and nothing else. The owl reminded him of Evan.

“Fine...Fine.” Tyler climbed back onto his bunk, pulling off his boots and tossing them to the floor aggressively. “Not everything is like planning a fucking revolution, Jon.”

“This is because of what we did.” Jonathan said quietly, glancing at Lui and Brock who had crawled into their bunks after Jonathan’s outburst, neither wanting to look at him.

“It's your fault. You threw him off the bridge.”

“I didn't throw him.” Jonathan tried to keep his attention on stitching the patch to the jacket. “He wanted me to drop him.”

“I can't believe you.” Jonathan heard Tyler roll over above him and that was the end of the conversation. He finished stitching, rubbing his thumb over the old thread. A cold shiver ran through him as if he were stuck in a freezing winter storm. He got up, hanging the jacket on the bedpost and turned off the light. He got back on his bed, unlacing his boots and kicked them off and laid down.

“One...Two...Three…” He began to count in his head as he closed his eyes. A faint beeping echoed around him. “Four...Five…Six…” He opened his eyes, looking at the metal walls around him. He was in an elevator, the beeping stopping when he reached the fifth floor. The doors opened slowly onto a long white hallway. His breath caught in his throat as he stepped out of the elevator. “Seven...Eight...Nine…” He continued down the hallway, past doors with small windows in them, towards the end of the hall.

“Jonathan.”

“Ten...Eleven...Twelve…” He turned, seeing a hand reaching through the small window. “Evan…?” He ran back to the window, reaching for the hand. Their fingers entwined as Jonathan reached the window, looking through at Evan who stared at him with wide eyes. He could see the white pyjamas that Evan wore and the pale look on his face.

“I saw you from this window...You didn’t see me. I wanted to call out...I thought you would help me.” Evan stammered tears in his eyes. “But I didn’t...I thought it was Tyler…”

“I’m sorry, Evan. I’m sorry I didn’t come find you. I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” Jonathan said, trying to pull open the door but it was locked.

“You have to come back...You have to come back to the fifth floor! I thought they would listen to me but they didn’t and I left something here! Please come back, Jonathan! Come back!”

  


Jonathan awoke with a start, feeling tears falling from his eyes. Warm morning sunlight spilt through the window. The other bunk beds were empty, the others went to deal with the damage of what had happened the previous day. He got out of bed, changing into clean clothes and tied up his boots before throwing on his jacket, the owl patch glinting in the bright light. He made his way outside, heading towards the hall where he found Tyler and the others at their usual table, staring at their coffee cups in silence.

“Tyler?” He looked up at Jonathan as he approached. “I want to go to the fifth floor.”

“W-What?”

“I want to go to the fifth floor. Evan left something there.” Jonathan said, his voice serious.

“You said that last night that this is a game. It’s not a fucking game anymore?” Tyler spat as he got up.

“It is a game but we’re playing it now. Evan left something on that floor and we need to find it.”  Jonathan shot back. “I’m sorry.”

“How do you know that he left something?”

“I-I...I just do.” Tyler sighed, looking back at the others for a moment before looking back at Jonathan.

“Fine,” Tyler said. Jonathan smiled and followed Tyler out of the hall into the cold snowy morning. “What did he leave there?”

“I don’t know...I don’t know till we get there.” Jonathan answered quietly.

“Is it really true that Evan is trapped in a cycle?” Tyler asked as they reached the tower, pushing the cracked glass door open.

“If it can be copied...He’s trapped.” Jonathan said as they began the climb up the stairs. “You’re right...It wasn’t right to drop him off the bridge. I’m sorry, Tyler.” He stopped, leaning against the wall. “I shouldn’t have dropped him...This would never have happened if...If…”

“You thought it was the right thing to do. To be honest, I would have done it too.” Tyler said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It was the right thing to do at then.”

“And what is the right thing to do now?”

“We’ll find out when we reach the fifth floor,” Tyler said with a small smile. “Come on.” They continued up the stairs, pushing open the heavy white door to the white hallway. They checked the rooms, the ones that had been cells. The ceilings had been burned but nothing else had been. Jonathan pushed open the door from his dream, looking around the small room. He searched the room, looking for anything that Evan could have left behind but there was nothing. With a deep sigh, he left the room and headed down the hall to the last room where Tyler had gone. “Jonathan...Come here.”

Tyler stood at the morgue door which had been opened, cold air drifting out of the haunting room. However, what made the room haunted was gone. The bodies were gone. All that was left were the metal tables. “Were the bodies taken when people went through this place?”

“No...No one came here.” Jonathan stammered.

“Then who took the bodies?” Tyler stammered, his eyes widening as he turned to face Jonathan.

“I don’t know…” He turned around, looking around the room. His eyes landed on a large desk across the room on the other side of the chair.

“Does this have anything to do with the machines?” Tyler asked, following Jonathan to the other side of the room. Jonathan pulled open one of the drawers, finding plans for the Vanoss-III inside. Tyler took the other side, pulling open the bottom of the desk. “Oh god…” Tyler turned away suddenly, holding something tightly in his hand.

“Tyler? What is it?” Jonathan asked. Tyler’s shoulders began to shake. “Tyler?”

“I know what he left behind…” Tyler turned around slowly, tears falling from his eyes. “He wrote to me…He...Oh my god…” Tyler turned suddenly, running from the room. Jonathan hurried after him, down the stairs and into the lobby, pushing open the front door. Tyler fell to his knees, wailing as he clutched something to his chest. Jonathan dropped beside him, pulling him into a hug. Pages of crumpled paper fell from Tyler’s hands, Evan’s writing scrawled across them, to the snow. Jonathan caught them before they could blow away in the wind.

“Dear Tyler…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to get chapter four up this week as well!! Thank you all so much for the support! Make sure to check out the soundtrack for the first nine chapters! As well as my twitter @Aqueenofokay. Send me your theories for Asleep! I'd love to see what you guys think!!! Enjoy the chapter!!

“Dear Tyler. I never knew how to tell you that I’m alive but I do know how to tell you I’m dead…” 

“Shut the fuck up.” The frame of the bunk bed creaked as Tyler rolled over, his back to the room and a pillow over his head. “Shut up…” 

“We have to read them, Tyler. It’s what Evan wanted.” Brock sighed from where he sat on the cold wood floor in front of Jonathan’s bed. Spread around him, Lui and Jonathan were Evan’s letters. On some, the ink was smeared with what must have been tears while others looked like they had been crumbled up in anger.

“Then don't read them out loud.” Tyler’s voice shook. Jonathan sat back on the floor, looking up at him with a curious look on his face. 

“Tyler…? Are you sad because he left you letters before his death or are you sad because he did this before? Before all of this happened?” Jonathan asked, remembering Evan’s poems and the small green army men that had protected them. They still had the box which was hidden away under Lui’s bunk. Brock and Lui glanced at Jonathan, their expressions answering Jonathan’s question. 

“What?” Tyler sat up and held the pillow tightly, looking down at Jonathan with narrowed eyes. 

“Are there more letters?” 

“Yes...But they aren't important...It's just...Evan had a hard time saying how he was feeling. When he wrote it down, it made more sense. So after anything...anything traumatic...He wrote a letter to us to help us understand but more importantly, to help him.” Tyler sighed, leaning against the wall. “He must have thought that they would actually send them to me...He must have thought that I would read them...He was murdered thinking that…” 

“They were never going to send them.” Jonathan sighed. “They were probably used to test his consciousness on the chip after…” 

“Stop! Stop talking about Evan like all he is is a code! Stop it! Fuck you, you New Towner!” Tyler suddenly climbed off his bunk and stormed out of the cabin, the cold wind sneaking in before the door closed. 

“I-I agree with him...Stop bringing that stuff up...Especially with this.” Brock sighed, collecting the letters into a pile. “Tyler hasn't let go of Evan and you are making it worse with every mention of him being a machine.” 

“How do you think I feel? I wish that I could have met the real Evan but I never did and-” 

“That's it right there. You never met our Evan! Stop acting like you did!” Lui snapped. “You only met the Vanoss-III; a lie.” 

“Shut up! I’ve given up everything for Evan and for you! What did you do for Evan?” Jonathan shot back. Lui whirled around, suddenly punching Jonathan hard on the jaw. He stumbled backwards, falling against the bunk bed's post. Lui grabbed his collar and hit him again, blood filling Jonathan’s mouth. 

“Knock it off!” Brock pulled Lui off him, shoving him back against the far wall. “Stop it, both of you.” 

“I'm going to make you regret saying that.” Lui snarled, shoving Brock off and headed for the door. As it slammed, the whole building shook. Jonathan sat down on his bunk, wiping the blood from his face. 

“You shouldn't have said that. You know what we have done for Evan...But we also know what you did. Make sure you apologise when they come back and they will too.” Brock said, giving him a small smile. 

But when Tyler and Lui returned no one said a thing. The cabin remained silent, filled with an uncomfortable and aggressive silence. Even when they left and headed through the snow towards the dining hall, the silence followed them like a lonely ghost. Maybe, Jonathan wondered, it was Evan’s lonely ghost. 

In the dining hall, they are together but in silence. They had no one else to sit with and though they were angry at each other, they couldn't separate. After all, they had been through, it felt wrong to separate even if for a moment. Jonathan sat awkwardly beside Brock, stirring his broth. On his shoulder, the owl patch glinted in the dim light. Before dinner, he had noticed spots of red in its thread feathers and wondered where the stains came from. 

“Nice patch, Owl Boy.” Tyler suddenly spat at Jonathan, pointing his spoon at the patch. Jonathan glanced at it and forced a smile. For a moment, their fight was forgotten and Tyler smiled back. But the moment ended when Lui elbowed Tyler and the tension settled like falling snow back over them, weighing them down like frozen branches under the cold weight. 

 

After dinner, Jonathan stood in the snow, looking up at the stars above him. His breath floated around him in white clouds as he rubbed his hands together, trying to get them warm again despite his thick knitted gloves. 

“You should listen to your dreams.” Jonathan’s attention was taken off the sky and directed to a woman standing in the snow in front of him, snowflakes landing on her red hair. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Listen to what he tells you.” She said before turning away and walked through the snow into the dark. Jonathan stood there in shock, his gaze on the spot where she had just been. 

“Jon? Are you coming in?” Brock called from the door to the cabin, warm light spilling around him. 

“Y-Yeah.” Jonathan nodded and headed up the creaking wooden stairs and into the cabin. Lui was reading while Tyler seemed to have already gone to sleep. Jonathan knew he should at least say something to Lui but when he met his angry gaze, he couldn’t do it. He hated to admit it but he was still angry at him for saying that he was nothing, that everything he gave up meant nothing. 

So he pulled off his boots and his jacket, the owl patch watching him with its large faded eyes as he got into bed and pulled the blanket over his head. He had taken the last letter that Evan had written and had hidden it under his bed. Even though it was written to Tyler, he imagined that it was to him instead. 

“I’m just on the other side of the door and that is where I’ll wait for you…” 

 

“One...Two...Three…” 

“Jonathan...It’s cold out here.” Jonathan’s eyes opened, looking around the cold forest he found himself in. Evan stood in front of him, his eyes wide. He wore what looked like a soldier’s uniform, white and red stripes sewn around his arm. Under his lapel, something gold and feathered seemed to glint in the dim winter light. 

“I k-know…” Jonathan said, taking a step towards Evan whose hands began to shake as he looked down at them. 

“I-It’s….It’s s-so cold.” He stuttered. “D-Don’t go...Don’t go out there.” 

“Four...Five...Six…” 

“Why?” Jonathan demanded. “What is ‘out there’?” 

“Y-you won’t b-be able to handle w-what you find…” 

“Seven...Eight...Nine…” 

“What is out there?” Jonathan cried. Evan turned away from Jonathan, his hand outstretched to catch the snowflakes in his gloved hands. Something red dripped from Evan’s hand to the snow. “Evan...Please tell me. I’ll listen.” 

“Ten...Eleven...Twelve…”

“N-No...You won’t.” Evan’s back was bloody. 

 

Jonathan awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide as he gasped for air. He was sweating though he had a chill, shivers running through him. He had crumpled the letter in his sleep, and he sighed in frustration when he saw it had ripped. He held it gently as he tried to flatten it but his hands continued to shake. The sky was only starting to lighten, the draft in between the window and the wall playing with the thin curtains gently. Another chill shook Jonathan. 

The dream haunted him. Something about it seemed so familiar but at the same time, it was so wrong. There had been a war and there had been uniforms like the one Evan wore but that was a hundred years ago. It was because of that war that New Town and Old Town were created. He decided that he would make the climb to his old room to find his history textbooks though he knew they were most likely burned to ash. 

“Maybe it’s nothing...Maybe I was just thinking about it when I feel asleep…” Jonathan decided. “He doesn’t want me to go up there maybe...That’s it.” He laid back down, staring at the window across the room but he couldn’t fall back asleep. With a deep sigh, he got up and pulled on his boots and jacket. As he grabbed his toque and gloves, he glanced at Tyler who was still in a deep sleep, turning onto his side as his face contorted into a pained expression as if he was having the same disturbing dream as Jonathan had. He picked up the crumpled letter and gently tucked it into Tyler’s hand before he pulled on his hat and gloves and left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him. 

The snow glittered in the slowly brightening light. The freshly fallen snow crunched with every step, his footprints following him through the makeshift town. He looked up at the tower that had once been his home and the broken bridge, the cable that had saved his life dangling in the cold. 

“Jonathan?” He turned, seeing Craig standing by the hall, his scarf wrapped tightly around his face. 

“Oh...Good morning, Craig...What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m on kitchen duty.” Craig shrugged. “What are you doing?” 

“Just...going for a walk.” Jonathan said awkwardly. 

“Is Tyler okay? I heard that he had a breakdown in the middle of town yesterday. What happened?” Craig asked, pulling his thick scarf down so his voice wouldn’t be muffled. 

“I...I uh...He’s okay...It’s nothing.” 

“Tyler doesn’t cry about nothing, Jon.” Craig said after a moment of silence. He unlocked the Hall door and headed inside, leaving Jonathan alone in the cold. He turned from the hall and continued on his way to the tower. Among the fresh snow, a piece of paper trapped underneath fluttered in the cold wind, catching Jonathan’s attention. He stopped and knelt down, pulling it out from under the snow. 

“Dear Tyler… I heard a voice that was so full of life that for a moment, I thought it was one of you. I thought that you had come to save me. But it wasn’t you. It was a New Towner. I didn’t know that it was possible, to hear something that should be like a machine, sound so human…” Jonathan trailed off. They must have forgotten this letter in their rush to get Tyler back to their cabin and he kicked himself for forgetting. Evan had heard him before he died. He knew of him before he became the Vanoss-III. 

A sudden wave of anger crashed over him as he thought about how Evan’s consciousness had been stolen and how he had been stupid enough to think that letting him go was the right thing. He remembered his anger at Lui and Tyler for their ignorance. He stuffed the letter into his pocket and hurried back across the town towards the warehouse where they kept all their tools. He pushed open the heavy door and turned the light on, searching for the best tool for the job. His eyes landed on a large sledgehammer. He grabbed the handle and hefted it up before he stormed back out of the warehouse and back towards the tower. 

Pushing open the cracked door, he made his way to the stairs. By the twentieth floor, he had to drag the hammer behind him but his anger didn’t wane; it only became worse the higher he went. He kicked open the door to the thirty-seventh floor, making his way down the hall to the room that once stored their weapons. Now it only stored the body of a broken war machine with Evan’s consciousness. 

Jonathan stared at it for a moment before he hefted up the hammer, raising it above his head and brought it down on the machine over and over. The metal dented, then split, revealing the wires and gears that had powered it but he didn’t stop there. Tears fell from his eyes and screams of anger and agony escaped his throat. Bits of metal painted red flew around him and sparks flew as wires split. 

“Fuck you! Go to fucking hell!” Jonathan screamed, bringing the hammer down on the machine’s throat. The head flew off and hit the far wall, the wires sparking wildly. As he raised the hammer to bring it down on the head, he stopped. “The chip…” He dropped the hammer and picked up the head of the war machine, looking through the hole where the neck had been to see if the head was there. Still glowing blue, the chip was there, deep inside the head. Jonathan turned and ran back down the hall to the stairs, holding onto the mangled head of the machine tightly as he ran. He burst onto the charred twenty-fifth floor where basic tablets were once kept. He prayed that the fire he started on the thirtieth floor hadn’t destroyed them all. 

Pushing open what was left of one of the office doors, he glanced around, seeing the metal safe under the remains of a desk. Setting the head down, he left in search of something he could to open it and returned with a piece of heavy metal. He smashed it against the lock till it broke off and the safe opened, revealing the still intact tablets inside. Jonathan quickly got to work pulling the head open and disconnecting the chip with Evan’s consciousness on it. Once it was out, he opened the back of the tablet. It took him a few hours, till the sun had fully risen to recreate a copy of the Vanoss-III. He placed the back on and turned it on. The screen lit up slowly but there was only silence. 

“D...Do you feel real?” Jonathan asked quietly. 

“Fuck you.” Evan suddenly answered. “Fuck you, you pathetic disgusting excuse of a-” Jonathan turned off the tablet quickly, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“At least it works…” Jonathan sighed, pulling his gloves back on. He got to his feet, glancing out the window at the morning sky. They would be wondering where he was by now so he made his way back down, forgetting the original reason for wanting to come up here; his history textbooks. 

 

“The fuck is that?” Lui said through a mouthful of toast as Jonathan sat down across from him at the dining hall table, placing the tablet in front of him. When he had gotten down from the tower, he had written ‘Vanoss-IV’ on the top. 

“I found a chip from one of the war machines that had attacked us and I made a new Vanoss-III.” Jonathan said quietly. “I figured that was a better way for us to get answers than it would have just sitting there in the broken machine.” 

“Fucking christ.” Lui got up and left the table, taking his plate with him but Tyler and Brock stayed, looking at it with curiosity. 

“Have you turned it on yet?” Brock asked. 

“Yes...It hates me.” 

“We need to know where it came from…” Tyler said quietly. “We need to know who stole Evan.” Jonathan nodded. He picked it up to press the power button but he stopped, looking up at Tyler and sighed. 

“I’m sorry. Reading those letters must be really hard for you.” The letter Jonathan had founded felt heavy in his pocket. “And I shouldn’t be talking about Evan like all he is a code now...It’s just...that’s the reality of it and-” 

“I forgive you.” Tyler said with a sad sigh. “Turn the damn thing on.” Jonathan nodded and pressed the button, the screen lighting up. 

“Life! Fuck you! Oh...that’s a weird feeling...Where the fuck am I? Who is this?” Evan yelled. The people sitting around them glanced at them, the loud angry voice startling them. 

“Shut up.” Jonathan suddenly snarled. “You’re under our control now. I can turn you off and leave you in a state of non-existence if I wanted to. Who sent you?”

“Screw off.” 

“Where did you come from then?” Tyler asked, leaning over the table to keep his voice quiet. 

“From the Wasteland. You’ll never find where.” Evan taunted. Tyler looked up at Jonathan and nodded. Jonathan turned the tablet off, setting it back down on the table. 

“What is the Wasteland?” Brock asked. Jonathan shook his head, the thought of it scaring him. 

“It’s the world outside of New and Old Town. It’s called the Wasteland because it’s empty of life, apparently. Just snow and forests. People have said that no one can survive in the Wasteland.” Jonathan explained. “It’s not a good place to be.” 

“Jon, it’s the world outside of town. How can it not be good? Have you ever been there?” Tyler demanded. Jonathan shook his head. “Do you know anyone who has been out there?” 

“D-Don’t go...Don’t go out there.” Evan had said in Jonathan’s dream as blood had oozed from two holes in his back. 

“No...But we shouldn’t go. We can’t go out there.” Jonathan said more urgently. 

“Why?” Jonathan couldn’t give Tyler an answer. “We have to. We have to find Evan and fix this. Do what is right.” 

“Tyler’s right. We can’t figure anything out from here. We have to go out there.” Brock agreed. “I’m sure Lui will want to too.” 

“Then it’s decided.” Tyler nodded, getting to his feet. “We’re going into the Wasteland.” 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoy the chapter! Let me know!! Are you noticing things? I'd love to see if you are! If you could leave a review, that'd be awesome! Thank you for the support!! Enjoy!!

No one is alive out there. No one should go out there. Humans don't belong in the Wasteland. Maybe machines do but not humans. That's what Jonathan’s father had told him whenever he asked about what was outside the city and why he had never been outside of the walls that had kept him trapped in this glowing world.

“I’d love to sneak out there at least once.” Luke had once said. “It can't be just nothing out there. I want to see it.” Jonathan pushed away the painful memories of Luke as he rolled over, his eyes on the thing curtain and the window behind it. He couldn't sleep and maybe it was because he didn't want to. He was terrified of having another dream of Evan.

“There is a whole world out there, Jon.” Luke had said. “I bet our history books are wrong. People survived the war and they are out there. Think about what it would be like to meet them!” They had been sitting by Jonathan’s large window, staring out at the neon lights and the smoke on the other side of the wall.

“They would have no idea that a city with a wall in the middle exists.” Jonathan had said, leaning his head against the glass.

“I wonder if they are mutated.” Like had said, his tone serious.

“From what?”

“The radiation.”

What Luke had said sent a chill through Jonathan now. No one went out there; at least, anyone who did never came back. It was cold and barren in the Wasteland, or that was what he had read. His father said that New Towners have everything here, there is no need to go out there.

But there was something out there. Someone had sent those war machines from out there. With a sigh, he got up, pulling on his boots and jacket and grabbed the Vanoss-IV, or the ‘Angry Evan’ as Tyler called it. He stepped outside of the cabin and sat down on the front steps, pressing the on button. The tablet lit up but Evan didn't say anything, obviously pouting.

“Why were you sent here?” Jonathan demanded.

“To kill you, if that wasn't obvious enough.” Evan snapped.

“Why? We haven't done anything.”

“You destroyed New Town.” Evan said. “Isn't that obvious? You thought that taking down a city like New Town would be easy, didn't you? It isn't. You took from very powerful people and now we are going to take from you. We have the real Evan’s consciousness chip, the one you fucking threw off a bridge. Wouldn't be surprised if it’s destroyed by the time I get back.”

“You aren't going anywhere.” Jonathan snapped.

“You are going into the Wasteland and unfortunately...you need a guide. I’m coming with you.” The cruel Evan snarled.

“Why were you made to be so...so mean? Evan wasn't mean.” Jonathan asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“How do you know? You never met him.”

 

The faded owl patch watched Jonathan from where his jacket hung on the bedpost as he paced with its large eyes. Tyler was awake now, leaning against the wall with his arms around his pillow.

“Where did you say that you got that patch? I think I’ve seen it before…” Tyler mumbled.

“That's not important. The Wasteland is! We can't go out there, Tyler! There is something bad out there! Something that is smarter than me when it comes to machines and they are pissed off at us because of what we did to New Town! We’re going to die if we go out there!” Jonathan cried.

“We’ll die if we stay here too in case you didn't notice! Those war machines killed good people, Jonathan.” Lui snapped from behind Jonathan.

“We don't have a choice. We have to go.” Tyler sighed.

“And use this as our fucking guide?” Jonathan held up the Vanoss-IV before tossing it back down on the bed. “That isn't Evan! He won't help us get to where we need to go!”

“And where is that?” Brock asked. “He knows but we don't, right?”

“Yeah...They have the original Vanoss-III chip, the one that I stupidly threw away, too.” Jonathan sighed.

“All the more reason to go then. Did the Vanoss-IV tell you?” Tyler asked; Jonathan nodded.

“More like taunted me with it.”

“What if it’s just trying to mess with you? Or if it’s a trap?” Brock asked.

“Of course that’s what it’s doing. Whoever it is doing this, they want to fuck with us. Like you said, Jonathan, it’s not a coincidence that it was Evan’s consciousness and his jacket painted on those machines.” Lui snapped.

“Are you done being mad at me?” Jonathan turned on his heel, glaring at Lui who sat on his bunk, his red hood pulled over his head.

“This is your fault.” Lui hissed. “Are you going to apologise for it?” Jonathan stammered, trying to find what to say in response but there was nothing he could say. “That’s what I thought.”

“This isn’t entirely his fault, Lui. We can fix this, I know we can.” Brock tried to bring hope into the conversation but it withered under Lui’s glare. “Look, we have to work together to deal with this. So can we try to be civil?” Lui laid back on his bed and rolled onto his side, clearly not wanting to be a part of the conversation anymore.

“So we’ll need to bring weapons and we’ll need a vehicle. Those machines came in on a helicopter so we can’t walk.” Tyler explained. “There is a truck in the tool warehouse. If we tell the others we’re going after whoever send the machines, we can use it.”  

“We’ll be going over the big bridge, won’t we?” Brock asked as he climbed up to his bunk and leant against the wall, reaching for the book he had been reading under his pillow. Jonathan lowered his gaze at the memory of the creaking bridge.

“We will,” Tyler said. “Just try to relax today. We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

“Sooner the better, right? We’re going to die out there, Tyler! Why aren’t you listening to me?” Jonathan cried.

“We are listening, Jonathan. I’m scared too but we have to go out there. For Evan.”

“We’re not doing anything for Evan if we’re dead.” Jonathan snapped and stormed out of the cabin.

“He’ll cool down…” He heard Brock reassure Tyler as the door closed. Jonathan continued down the steps, finding his left hand reaching for his right shoulder and the owl patch there, his fingers brushing against the faded thread.

He walked through the town, finding himself back in front of the tower. He looked up at the tower, feeling tears fall from his eyes. He pushed open the broken glass door and wandered up to the fifth floor, pushing open the heavy white metal door to the white hallway. He made his way to the small room and sat down on the bed, looking around it with tear filled eyes.

“I’m sorry, Evan.” He whispered to the empty room. “I want to listen but I have to go...out there. Tell me. Tell me what I’ll find out there.” Of course, there was no answer, but there were footsteps in the hallway. No door had been opened. “Hello?” Jonathan called out, getting to his feet. “Hello?” He pulled the door open, looking around the hallway. Something red caught his eye, making him look down. Bloody footprints lead from the elevator that no longer worked to the room at the end of the hallway. “Who's there?” Jonathan called out as he made his way down the hall, following the bloody footprints.

There were boot prints, full of treads like those of a military boot. He made his way cautiously to the dark room, stepping inside of it. He moved around the disturbing chair, following the prints to the freezer. He remembered that the bodies had been taken obviously by whoever had taken the consciousness chips.

Except now, there was a body; a soldier. Jonathan advanced slowly towards the table, his breath catching in his throat as he realised it was Evan. He reached out cautiously, holding onto his freezing cold hand. There was something gold under his lapel, seeming to glimmer in the light like snow in the sunlight. He let go of Evan’s limp hand and pulled back the lapel of Evan’s uniform. The golden owl patch looked up at him with its large black eyes. Jonathan gasped, looking at the faded patch on his shoulder.

“It’s not...the same…” He stammered. Evan’s hand suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s arm, making him scream.

“D-Don’t go! D-Don’t go o-out t-there!” Evan stuttered, his eyes wide with pain and fear.

Jonathan awoke with a scream, looking around the small white room as he heaved for air. From the small window, he could see that it had gotten dark outside, his seemingly short dream leaving him terrified. He got up quickly, knowing that the others would be wondering where he went by now and hurried back down the hallway towards the stairs, not noticing the bloody footprints leading to the room at the end of the hall behind him.

 

“I’m scared to go.” Jonathan stood in the empty cabin. All of their things were packed and brought to the truck. The beds were made neatly as if no one had ever been there.

“Me too.” Tyler said. He stood by the door, waiting for Jonathan.

“What if we don’t come back?” Jonathan asked as he turned around to look at him.

“We will.” Tyler smiled. “No matter what, we’ll come back. Now come on; let’s go.” Jonathan nodded and slowly, he left the cabin. They made their way through town towards the warehouse, pushing open the large heavy doors. They were greeted by the loud rumble of the military truck. “Are we ready?” Tyler called out as he climbed up to the driver’s door and pulled it open.

“Yep!” Lui called from the back where he was finishing tying down the stuff they had packed.

“You can drive alright?” Jonathan asked, looking up at Tyler who laughed.

“We had trucks in Old Town. Hell, this is an Old Town vehicle.” Tyler laughed.

“Wait! Wait!” Jonathan turned, seeing Craig running through the snow towards them, his scarf flying behind him. “Wait!” Tyler’s door opened and the others leant off the back off the truck, looking at Craig with curious expressions. “I want to go with you!”

“You don't know where we are going.” Lui said as he leaned off the back of the truck by the pole that supported the canvas roof.

“Yes, I do. The Wasteland is the only place to go from here. There ain't nothing here that would help you figure out where those machines came from.” Craig explained, slightly out of breath. “I want to go with you. I helped you the first time around. Let me help now. If I don't go...I’ll be stuck here doing early morning kitchen duty for the rest of my life. Please.”

“You might die.” Tyler said. “Might see some real messed up shit.”

“Better than making the same eggs every morning.”

“Then make us pancakes on the road.” Tyler said as he got back into the truck. Jonathan glanced at Craig who smiled slightly, a bit shocked that they agreed to let him come. Jonathan walked to the back and climbed up, offering Craig a hand up. Brock stayed in the back while Lui got up front with Tyler, not wanting to spend the trip with Jonathan. Jonathan wrapped a blanket around himself and pulled his hat lower over his ears as the truck pulled out of the warehouse and drove down the street.

“I like your patch.” Craig said from the other side of the truck, pointing to the owl on Jonathan's shoulder. “It looks like an antique.”

“Oh...Thanks. I don't know if it's that old.” Jonathan laughed awkwardly.

“Where did you find it?” Brock asked. He sat beside Jonathan, turned to look through the gap between the side and the canvas at what remained of New Town and the wall that they fought to bring down. They were reaching Old Town, the wood and stone structures still home to many.

“In my old home. I think my dad kept it from his great grandfather or something like that. It was with a bunch of uniforms.” Jonathan explained. “I have another one if you want it. You can have one too, Craig.”

“That's okay. I just think that I’ve seen it before.” Brock said, glancing at the patch. “There’s the bridge!” Brock suddenly pointed. The bridge hadn't changed since the day that Jonathan dropped Evan off the side. Icicles hung from its cables and rails and it creaked and groaned in the wind. Jonathan couldn’t help but stare at it as they went over it, the old iron weighed down by the military truck.

“It’s seen better days.” Craig muttered.

“I doubt there were ever any better days.” Jonathan whispered. The truck passed over the bridge and continued on into the Wasteland, the place where no one came back from. Jonathan looked back at the only town he had known all his life and prayed he’d see it again.

He forced himself to look in front of him, at the vast, white world around him. Snow covered the ground and the few barren trees. In the distance, he could see the edge of what must be a forest. He had no idea how anything could survive out here. Nothing was supposed to survive out here but as the forest got closer, Jonathan could make out great trees looming high into the sky as if they wished to one day touch the stars. Birds soared overhead, their wings propelling them higher into the grey sky. The cold wind whipped around Jonathan, tugging at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders if it wanted to play. Yet as beautiful as it was, there was something wrong.

“Why is it always so cold?” Craig called out over the roar of the engine, pulling his scarf tighter around his face.

“There was a nuclear war about a hundred years ago. It screwed up the earth so much, temperatures permanently dropped. According to first-hand accounts, no one knew when it was snow or ash falling from the sky.” Jonathan explained. “No one survived except those who went underground, like my great grandfather. He created the foundation for New Town.”

“Should have stayed above ground, the dick.” Craig snapped. He glanced at Jonathan and gave him a small smile. “There must have been some people who survived above ground.”

“Who knows…”

 

As night fell, they set up camp near the road. Their tents billowed in the cold wind as they huddled close to their fire while Craig struggled to make dinner.

“Why don’t we ask the Vanoss-IV if we’re going in the right direction? We can pass the time.” Tyler asked, grabbing Jonathan’s bag. He pulled the tablet out and pressed the on button.

“What do you want?” Evan snarled.

“Did you make this?” Craig asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah. I took the chip from one of the war machines. It’s a copy of the Vanoss-III, the original consciousness copy of Evan.” Jonathan explained.

“Where do we go from here? And don’t even think of leading us in the wrong direction.” Tyler snapped.

“You’ll be dead before you get there anyways. No one survives the Wasteland.” Evan taunted.

“Stop it. Where do we go from here?”

“Keep going west. Once you hit mountains, you won’t be far.” Evan said casually.

“Are you serious? That far?” Jonathan cried. The Vanoss-IV made a sound that told them that if he could, he would have shrugged like he didn’t care how far they had to go. “Fuck…”

“It’s fine...We’ll just have to travel a bit farther every day then.” Brock said, trying to keep things calm. “Why don’t you turn that off, we’ll relax and get some rest and we can figure out a plan tomorrow? Okay?” They all agreed and turned the Vanoss-IV off, ignoring its taunts. During dinner, there were jokes and casual conversations that made them forget about the fear that hung heavy over them like storm clouds.  

After dinner, they doused out the fire and crawled into their tents. Jonathan was grateful to get into his sleeping bag, warmth surrounding him as he closed his eyes and began to slip into sleep.

“One...Two...Three…”

Snow fell gently from the white sky as Jonathan opened his eyes, looking around the forest. There were footsteps in the snow that he followed as if being compelled to do so. In a clearing, wearing his bright red leather jacket, white stripes wrapping around his arms, Evan watched the snow fall.

“Four...Five...Six…”

“You didn’t listen to me.” Evan said as Jonathan got closer to him.

“I’m sorry...I tried to convince them but they wouldn’t listen to me and-”  

“Now you are here.” Evan sighed.

“Are you real?” Jonathan stammered. “Or are you a ghost?”

“Seven...Eight...Nine…”

“I’m what you need me to be.” Evan said as he reached his hand up to touch the back of his head. It came away bloody but when Jonathan blinked, the blood was gone.

“ I feel like I’m losing my mind...I need you to be real.”

“Ten...Eleven...Twelve…”

“Then I’m real.”


	5. Chapter 5

Snow fell through the trees, the gentle wind creating flurries of snow, throwing it into the air before letting it float down. In the small clearing, the tents billowed slightly with the wind, snow threatening to bury them and the sleeping boys inside. 

Jonathan though wasn’t asleep. He had woken up after his dream of Evan and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep since. He laid in his sleeping bag, listening to the wind and the forest around him. He couldn’t stop thinking about something odd, something that kept happening in his dreams. He didn’t sleep well as it was normally, needing to count himself to sleep but it wasn’t that. Evan was always dead in his dreams. He was a shot soldier and in tonight’s dream, he had a head wound. Maybe that was what the chair had done to him. Jonathan knew that Evan was dead, that was why they were out here; they had to keep him dead. Despite that, there was something else, something that he was missing and he didn’t know what. 

Deciding that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he got up, pulling on his jacket and boots before wrapping a blanket around himself. He pulled down the zipper of the tent and stepped into the slowly brightening morning, snow landing on his hair. He knelt down in front of the ash where the fire had been and set about lighting it again, doing his best to protect the small flame from the cold wind. In the wood beyond the clearing, a twig snapped. 

The sound caught Jonathan’s attention and he looked up, his eyes scanning the treeline for the source of the noise but there was nothing. He could hear footsteps in the snow, the crunching of ice underfoot. Something moved in front of him and he looked down, seeing footsteps appear in the snow but there was no one there. Jonathan got to his feet, backing away from the ghostly footsteps. His eyes were wide and he struggled to breathe, watching another footstep appear in the snow. The sudden sound of a gunshot made him cry out in fear, his arms thrown over his face in an attempt to protect himself. There was a second silence and he could faintly hear a scream. As sudden as it happened, silence descended on the clearing. Jonathan slowly moved his arms, looking around but found nothing except a pair of bloody footprints in front of him. 

“W-Who are you?” Jonathan whispered to the ghost. There wasn't a sound except for the wind in the cold trees. “Evan?” 

“I’m real…” The wind whispered as it pulled the blanket around Jonathan’s shoulders. “I’m real…” 

 

“I’m scared.” The fire crackled and spat sparks into the morning sky. Brock sat beside Jonathan, his scarf wrapped tightly around his face. “I’m scared of the Wasteland...What's out there, Jonathan?” 

“Something we can't handle…” Jonathan whispered. 

“What's gotten into you? You sound like you’re possessed.” Tyler said, sipping from his coffee mug. 

“Nothing...Just had a nightmare.” Jonathan lied. He was still shaken up from what he had seen earlier. He had stared at the footprints till he heard one of the tent zippers open and he had scrambled to cover up the phantom blood. 

“What of?” Brock asked. Jonathan couldn’t answer. Every dream he had had over the past little while had been on a grey line, something haunting and disturbing about every moment he could remember. Maybe it was the way that Evan looked like a corpse come alive or a ghost who had forgotten he had died. He couldn’t explain it, no matter how much he wanted to. 

“D-Do...Do you guys have dreams about Evan? Like nightmares?” Jonathan finally said, looking up at the circle around them. Tyler suddenly set his mug down on the snow; he looked like he was going to be sick. “I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Are you having nightmares about him?” Tyler asked, but his eyes were on the snow as if he too were looking at bloody footprints. 

“Yes…” 

“Is he dead?” 

“Yes. He’s like a ghost when he appears in my dreams.” 

“It’s nothing...Just your mind dealing with grief...That’s all it is.” Tyler said but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. 

“I’ve never had dreams about him.” Lui said, glancing between the two. “Well...No, I have in the past...just reliving 3:57.” Lui sighed. His hand curled around his mug seemed to shake and he got up quickly, turning away from the group and walked towards the treeline. Jonathan turned back to Tyler who had placed a hand over his scarred shoulder, massaging it to relieve the phantom pain. He wouldn’t look at anyone. Jonathan wanted to ask him what he saw in his dreams but something told him otherwise. At least he knew he wasn’t alone. 

 

The truck rumbled down the snowy road, it’s tires throwing snow into the air behind them. The trees swayed in the wind as dark clouds rolled overhead, threatening to bring with them a blizzard. Jonathan leant against the side, tucked under a blanket. Once they had gotten in the truck, all conversation seemed pointless, no one could hear over the roar of the wind and the engine. Him, Brock and Craig were huddled in the back, watching the road behind them. 

A slow rumble seemed to come from somewhere overhead, catching their attention. Jonathan leaned over the railing and looked up but saw nothing in the sky. He prayed that he wasn’t hearing things again as he sat back down, glancing at the others. 

Do you hear that?” Jonathan managed to call out. 

“Yeah...What is that?” Craig called back. “Does Tyler hear?” 

“I don't know!” Brock called back, frantically waving over the side towards Tyler’s window but the truck didn't slow down. Jonathan pulled the blanket off his shoulders and got up, carefully climbing over the railing and reached for the next pole, inching along the edge of the speeding truck towards Tyler’s window. He had no cable this time to save him if he fell. 

“Jonathan! Be careful!” Craig cried out over the wind and the rumbling. All at once, the rumbling got louder and bullets rained down on the truck. Jonathan screamed in fear and his hand slipped from the icy pole, sending him crashing to the hard snowy ground. He rolled, his ears ringing, pain bringing tears to his eyes. Up ahead, the truck stopped, the front door swinging open. Jonathan rolled to a stop and looked up, seeing a helicopter just above the truck, a war machine dropping in front of the truck. It was painted to look like Evan just like the others had. Tyler shot at the machine as it approached, but it seemed to not care. Jonathan could only watch as the machine pulled Tyler down from the truck and throw him to the ground. 

“Tyler!” Lui had managed to get out of the truck, a gun held tight in his hand which he aimed at the machine’s neck. Sparks flew around the machine which seemed to scream as it turned to face Lui. 

“L-Lui!” Evan’s voice suddenly pleaded. “Don't!” Lui froze, staring at the machine with wide eyes. “You saved me once...3:57.” 

“Kill it!” Craig suddenly yelled as he swung himself out of the back of the truck, a bat in his hand. He swung it at the machine’s neck, sparks bursting from wires. The machine fell back to the ground where Craig continued to beat it, kicking the head off into the snow. “Jon!” Craig was suddenly running back to him, dropping to his knees beside him. Jonathan had watched it all happen but through blurry vision, his head aching painfully. 

“Get down!” Bullets once more rained down on them, the helicopter just above the tree. Craig suddenly fell over Jonathan, his panicked heavy breathing loud in Jonathan’s ears. They heard Tyler scream. Jonathan could just barely seem him fall back on the snow, blood splattered around him. Lui shot at the helicopter before ducking for cover back in the truck. A louder bang made Jonathan jump, his eyes turning to Brock who leaned over the railing of the truck, a double barrel shotgun in his hand. They could see the front glass of the window crack and Brock shot again. The helicopter flew higher and turned away from them, flying back over the trees. 

“Fucking Christ…” Craig breathed as he got back up. “Jon...are you okay?” 

“I-I’m okay...I’m okay…” Jonathan stammered as he struggled to get to his feet. Though he felt badly bruised, he was able to move just fine. Lui had dropped down beside Tyler, pressing a hand to the wound on his shoulder. 

“You’ll be okay...You’ve dealt with this before…” Lui reassured him. 

“Doesn't mean it doesn't fucking hurt.” Tyler spat. Jonathan staggered towards Tyler, helping him up and guided him towards the back of the truck. Blood seeped around Jonathan’s fingers. “Fuck...Fuck what was that?” 

“I don't know...but it's gone and we have to keep going. You need stitches.” Jonathan said as he helped him up into the back and laid him down on the blankets. Lui hung off the back, Craig jumping up into the back beside Brock. 

“I can drive.” Brock looked down the road then back at them and gave them a small smile. “You help Tyler. I’ll get us out of here. Lui, keep me company.” They both jumped off and headed to the front as Jonathan and Craig searched through their bags for the first aid kits. As the truck started up, they found it and helped Tyler out of his jacket and did their best to clean and heal the wound, using a pair of tweezers to get the bullet out. Jonathan was glad that he couldn't hear Tyler’s cries of pain over the engine. While Craig stitched, Jonathan held the skin together, his hands covered in blood and the stinging alcohol they had used to clean the wound. 

“I-I got shot again…” Tyler laughed weakly. “I feel like I’ve been filled with bullets...Maybe in a past life that was how I went out...a chest full of bullets and the universe is making it happen again…” Tyler sighed, his tear filled eyes meeting Jonathan’s. “Fuck the universe…” 

 

The sun overhead was dulled by the thick clouds as it moved closer to the horizon. The untouched snow sparkled in the dying light. 

“Does this look familiar?” Craig asked, watched the trees pass by. 

“No...Nothing here is familiar, Craig.” Jonathan didn't look up. He had Tyler’s jacket on his lap, a needle and thread in his hand. The faded second owl patch looked up at Jonathan as he sewed it over the hole on Tyler’s jacket just like he had with his. 

“Just kinda feels like we’ve already been here. Like we’re going in circles.” 

“The road is straight.” 

“I know.” Jonathan looked up at Craig for a moment, wondering where the déjà vu was coming from but he didn't question it. He pulled the last thread on the patch and cut it to tie it tightly, securing it to the jacket. Staring down at it, Jonathan felt that it was wasn't right to be on Tyler’s jacket but he didn't know why. He shook the odd thought away and leaned back against the side, watching the snow gently falling from the sky. His eyes drifted closed, counting himself to sleep. 

“One...Two…Three…” 

Gauze dangled from burned hands and eyes were wide and inhuman. Jonathan was looking at a monster. 

“Four...Five...Six…” 

Unable to look at the monster, Jonathan turned away, his eyes landing on a large bonfire, sparks rising high into the air. 

“Seven...Eight...Nine…” 

A flare flew into the sky and exploded into red smoke. 

 

Once the sun had gone down, they pulled the truck off and set up camp just inside the treeline. Jonathan struggled with his tent, the pole slipping from his hand and landing on the snow a few feet away.

“Do you need help?” Craig laughed. 

“That’d be great thanks.” Jonathan smiled as he went to collect the pole. He picked it up and looked around the woods, watching the snow fall quietly. He was surprised by how much life was in the Wasteland. Squirrels darted across the snow and birds sang in the trees, their bright feathers catching Jonathan’s eye. A large horned owl watched him from one of the large trees which swayed gently in the wind. He imagined that one could live peacefully here, without a care in the world except keeping the cold out. 

A sudden force suddenly tackled Jonathan to the snow, crushing him there. 

“Get off!” Jonathan screamed, struggling against the person on top of him. Sharp, cold metal pressed to the side of his throat made him freeze. 

“Who are you? Are you with him?” A voice yelled in his ear. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Let me go!” Jonathan screamed. He could hear footsteps running through the snow and Lui was suddenly there, pulling the man off and throwing him to the snow. The knife fell from his hand, now leaving him defenceless but he got back up and lunged at Lui who aimed a sharp kick to his side, throwing back into the snow. The man’s messenger bag fell to his side, the clip breaking under the force of his elbow landing on it. Lui yanked him up by his collar, something large falling out of the bag. As Lui swung him around and pinned him to a tree, Jonathan reached for the fallen object, his gloved hand curling around the side of it. It was a tablet with the word ‘Vanoss-III’ written at the top. “Lui stop!” Jonathan yelled as he scrambled to his feet. “What is this? How do you have a Vanoss-III?” Jonathan grabbed the fallen knife that had been used to threaten his life and gripped it tightly as he threatened the man with it now. “Where did you get this?” 

“I’m from a place called New Town! Or...Old Town is what it’s called now! I was an engineer! This is from a project I was working on! His name is Marcel!” The man cried. “My name is Smitty! I’m sorry! I just saw your truck and I didn’t know if you were the ones behind those god damn war machines! I thought you were!”  Lui let go of him roughly, glancing at Brock, Craig and Tyler who had gathered to see what was going on. The owl patch on Tyler’s shoulder glinted in the dim light, it’s faded feathers looking blood stained. 

“We’re going after the machines too...They took Evan’s consciousness. You know Evan, don’t you?” Jonathan asked, lowering the knife. 

“Yeah...I knew him. Not very well, though. I would just be the one that brought him paper and a pen when he asked for them. I mostly was in charge of Marcel, though. I’m ashamed of that project...So when the revolt happened, I left as soon as I could. I needed to get out of that hellhole. I’m sorry for attacking you.” Smitty said, his guilt clear across his face. 

“You’re forgiven.” Jonathan said, glancing at the others for a moment. “Join us for dinner tonight. I’d love to talk to Marcel if that’s okay. I know how one can be when they have one of these…” 

“You get protective. It’s a life literally in your hands.” Smitty nodded. “You had Evan, didn’t you?’ Jonathan nodded. “You must be Jonathan then...Your father-” 

“Don’t. I don’t really like talking about him.” 

“Thank you for what you did. He was a cruel man.” Smitty said as they walked back to their camp. Craig made him some hot chocolate while they finished setting up camp before finally settling down for dinner. “So you are going after the guy that took Evan’s consciousness?” Smitty asked, watching Jonathan study the outside of the Vanoss-III. 

“Yeah. I think he took multiple things, such as the bodies and the other chips that weren’t used and duplicated them. He’s put them in the war machines to mess with us. I made my own version of the Vanoss-III with one of the chips I took from one.” Jonathan said, reaching into his own bag to pull out the Vanoss-IV. “He’s a bit of a dick so I won’t turn it on right now.” 

“Impressive...You took a regular tablet to do this?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t have much.” Smitty looked very impressed with Jonathan’s skill. 

“I wanna talk to Marcel. He sounds nice.” Tyler said, his hand over the owl patch. 

“Yeah. He can be.” Smitty laughed as he pressed the on button. The screen lit up purple, and Jonathan noticed that a few things were different from the Vanoss-III. At least they had tried to personalise them. “Hi, Marcel. We got friends.” 

“You have friends?” A new voice laughed. “Did you bribe them, Smitty?” 

“Be nice. They knew Evan.”

“Poetry kid?”

“Yes, poetry kid.” 

“Did you meet him?” Brock asked, leaning towards the purple glowing screen. Jonathan found himself wrapping his arms around the Vanoss-IV, wishing it was the Vanoss-III instead with his Evan’s voice. 

“Not really. His room was across from mine and we talked occasionally through the bars. He just sounded really sad, not because of what might happen to us but because we were trapped, imprisoned for no reason. Was he happy as the Vanoss-III?” Marcel asked. 

“A few times.” Tyler said. Jonathan nodded sadly. 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Marcel.” 

“Don’t be. I feel kinda like an ethereal being like this. I exist but not really at the same time. It’s a strange feeling but I like it.” Marcel laughed. “Besides, it’s not as messed up as what happened eighty years ago with the shit they were doing back then.” 

“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked, his brow furrowing with confusion. 

“They were starting their experiments with consciousness twenty years after the war ended. They wanted to create something that would survive past regular human life, but still be human mentally. I don’t know very much about this project, it’s so top secret. There are rumours that it created consciousness mechanically. Other’s say it’s similar to the Vanoss-III project.” Smitty explained. There was a look of wonder but also disgust on his face. He found machines beautiful, but they had been used for such horrible things, Jonathan imagined that Smitty had a hard time loving them now. “It’s called the Delirious Project.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!! Thank you all so much for the support! I love seeing your reactions to this fic and making you wonder what is going on!! Make sure to check out my twitter for updates and other cool stuff, @aqueenofokay! Enjoy the chapter!!

Sobs had shaken Jonathan’s shoulders. Tears had streamed down his face and fell to the snow. He gripped the railing of the bridge as he sobbed, suddenly falling to his knees as they gave out under him. He had just dropped the Vanoss-III from the top of the bridge, and grief had overcome him and didn’t let go of him no matter how loudly he wailed and how many tears fell from his eyes. This pain was the most real thing he had ever felt.

 

Jonathan awoke slowly from a deep and dreamless sleep. He felt better waking up today, he hadn’t been haunted in his dreams by his mistakes. Smitty had shared his tent, curled up in the side, the tablet still on beside him. It reminded Jonathan so much of his late night conversations with Evan and how he would fall asleep to the red glow of the Vanoss-III.

"Do you have a girl at home, Jon?" Marcel had asked as Jonathan had climbed into his sleeping bag.

"He likes personal questions." Smitty smiled. "He can't see you so you gotta talk to him."

"It's okay. No, I don't." Jonathan had smiled, looking down at the purple glow.

"I do. I wonder if she's okay. Her name is Simone...She's got such pretty red hair...She's magical. She's always been magical, able to talk to ghosts and stuff. She's so wonderful." Marcel had said, a smile in his voice. "Were you close with your Vanoss-III?"

"I guess." Jonathan had shrugged. "I mean, I've left everything behind for him..." Jonathan had ended up telling Smitty and Marcel everything that had happened, his eyes watering as he talked about Luke and finding Evan's body. They had ended up falling asleep to the purple glow before Jonathan could even get to the end.

Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders now, he stepped out of the tent into the cold morning. Tyler was already awake, tending to the fire.

“What are you doing up so early?” Jonathan asked as he sat down beside Tyler.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jonathan asked, glancing at Tyler to see the sad expression on his face before he tried to hide it from him.

“It was just a bad dream about Evan...It’s repeating. Every time I fall asleep, I open my eyes and see that I’m falling. I land on the snow and there is blood everywhere...And I look up and I see Evan running towards something and then there’s a gunshot, then another one and he falls to the snow...dead. What does that mean, Jonathan? There is nothing I can do to stop it. I can only watch it and as soon as he hits the ground, I wake up.” Tyler wiped his eyes with his sleeve, not meeting Jonathan’s gaze.

“He’s a talking corpse in mine.” Jonathan whispered. “He’s warning me about things. He told me that he left the letters behind and that we shouldn’t have gone into the Wasteland. Sometimes I see him as a soldier and other times he’s wearing his red jacket but his hands are covered in gauze and there is something wrong with his eyes. I think he’s haunting me, Tyler.”

“Haunting you.” Tyler repeated before he suddenly laughed at Jonathan.

“Yeah.”

“He never met you.” Tyler’s voice was suddenly full of anger. Jonathan thought that it might have been jealousy too. “Evan never knew you...You only got to know a copy of him, a computer copy of him!” Tyler spat. Jonathan looked away, hurt. First Lui, now him. He should have known this would happen, sitting with him on those long drives during the day. “He’s not haunting you. You never read his poems, never fought the police machines with him in riots. You never had to listen to him after he got out of prison cry for hours and there was nothing you could do no matter how much you wanted to. Shut up, Jonathan. Just shut up. Don’t you dare say that again.” Tyler got up, walking away from Jonathan as sobs shook his shoulders. The owl patch glinted in the morning light.

 

“Will you come with us?” They stood around Smitty, their truck rumbling and waiting for them.

“No...I’m not going anywhere. I just want to get away from the machines...Except Marcel that is.” Smitty smiled down at the tablet. “I’m not going back to New Town.”  

“It’s not safe out here alone.” Brock said. “At least let us give you a lift somewhere.”

“No. You’ve given me enough. Thank you. It was great to meet you. Good luck out there. You’ll need it. And hey, maybe we'll meet again someday. Maybe not in this life...but the next.” Smitty said with a smile before turning away from the group, walking into the woods. The group watched him go, waving to him before turning to their truck. Jonathan climbed into the back, curling up in the corner away from the others. After a few moments, the truck started down the road. Jonathan was able to still Smitty through the trees and gave him a small wave, wishing he could come with him. Except for the little support that Brock gave him, Jonathan felt completely alone.

They drove till the sun went down, not a single word was said the whole way. Jonathan had taken the last owl patch out of his bag, his gloved hand curled around it. Every so often, he would trace the feathers and the stains, wondering what these large eyes had seen in the past.

As the truck pulled over, Jonathan jumped out and gratefully walked away from the truck, glad to be alone. He held the owl patch tightly as he walked through the trees, the icy snow crunching under his boots. Snowflakes fell gently around him, the trees swaying in the cold wind. In the distance from the road, they had been able to see the mountains and they knew that they were getting closer to facing whatever or whoever was behind all of this. Jonathan sighed as he stopped, leaning against a tree to look up at the falling snow. He could swear that he heard music faintly, the notes floating on the wind but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

“Jon? Are you okay?” He turned to see Brock making his way through the trees towards him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fucking fine.” Jonathan turned away from him. “I don’t need your sympathy, Brock. I’m sure you are thinking just like the others. You’re just being nice because you’re stuck with me.”

“Where is this coming from?” Brock looked hurt. He reached for Jonathan’s hand but he pulled away from him quickly. “Jon. Did Lui say something?”

“Tyler said it this time. Look...When this is over, you never have to see me again, okay? I’ll leave you all alone for good. I’ve lost my only friend and I lost the Vanoss-III...I latched on to you guys thinking you would want me around but no; I was wrong. It’s fine. I get it. Really, I do.”

“You don’t get anything.” Brock snarled and turned away from Jonathan, storming back through the snow towards their camp. Jonathan watched him go, regret suddenly overwhelming him. He found himself running through the snow, away from the others. The cold wind whipped around him, biting at his cheeks and nose. The sound of water made him slow till he came across a river, the cold water rushing around snow capped rocks. Jonathan fell to his knees, letting out a sob as he did. The owl patch fell from his hand to the snow, the faded feathers glinting in the dim light. He couldn’t stop himself from sobbing, gasping for air as tears streamed down his face. His cheeks stung and his chest burned as he leant down, pressing his forehead against the snow, his arms wrapped around himself as that would stop himself from falling apart.

“It’s okay...Don’t lose this.” Jonathan opened his eyes, seeing a gloved hand holding the owl patch out to him. The hand wasn’t attached to a body. Slowly, Jonathan reached for the owl patch, his fingers curling around it slowly as he watched blood drip from the hand, the glove soaked with it. Jonathan screamed and scrambled away from the bloody disembodied hand, falling back onto the snow, dangerously close to the edge of the freezing river.

“What do you want?” Jonathan called out to the forest. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” A bloody footprint appeared in the snow.

“Evan wasn’t a soldier...He was a kid that got murdered by New Town. That’s all. Not a soldier. Not a nightmarish creature. Not a ghost.” Jonathan stammered.

“There are so many worlds...So many lives...This is only one. I’ve been brought back to help you, Jonathan. Listen to me. At first, I was only in your dreams…” A figure moved in the trees. “You said you needed me real, so I’m here now.”

“I didn’t want this. I didn’t want you haunting me! And no one believes me! They all hate me, Evan! You never knew me…” Jonathan looked away, new tears in his eyes. “Ghosts aren’t real...I’m losing my mind.”

“I knew you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Tyler never had an owl patch before…” Evan whispered from where he stood among the trees, snow falling on his bloody uniform.

 

The truck rumbled down the road towards the mountains. Jonathan was back in his corner, his arms around the Vanoss-IV. No one had said a word to him and he didn’t want to say anything to them for fear of getting them more angry with him. Jonathan wasn’t listening to the wind but the music that seemed to get louder the closer they got to the rolling hills.

“Do you hear that?” Craig asked as he looked around. Jonathan didn't say anything, only watched him as he seemed to move stiffly, mechanically.

“Is it music?” Brock wondered, looking at the forest for the source of the sound. Jonathan looked away, watching the road behind them.

“I think so…” The truck swayed as it drove over train tracks. Craig looked at the tracks as they got farther away, a strange expression on his face.

“Do you feel real?” Jonathan suddenly asked. Craig stared at him, his brow furrowing.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing…Sorry.” Jonathan looked away, suddenly regretting having said anything. Without any warning, there was a sudden pop and the truck skidded on the ice as it's front tyres exploded. The truck spun out of control, the force throwing the boys in the back to the truck floor. Jonathan cried out as he fell, unable to stop himself from sliding towards the edge, colliding with the metal edge into darkness.

 

Snow fell slowly around the silent truck. Jonathan opened his eyes slowly, seeing that the world had darkened around them. He looked around with wide eyes, shaking Brock’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him up.

“B-Brock…” Jonathan staggered to his feet, dizziness hanging over him like a cloud.

“W-What happened?” Brock stammered as his eyes fluttered open. “J-Jon? Where are you going?”

“To see if Tyler and Lui are okay.” Jonathan swung himself down from the back and made his way towards the front of the truck, but something caught his eye. Up ahead, the trees were covered in bright lights. Jonathan found himself walking past the truck and towards the lights. The first tree was wrapped up in gold lights, the warm light twinkling like the stars above him. Jonathan placed his hand on one of the bulbs, feeling the warmth of it through his glove. He continued ahead, looking up at the coloured lights around him with wide, wonder-filled eyes. Pinks, reds, blues, greens and every colour in between spiralled up the trees towards the stars, the sparkling snow reflecting the glittering lights.

“It's so beautiful…” Jonathan murmured as he reached for one of the red coloured trees.

“All I see is lights…” Evan had said. “It's beautiful…” Snow fell gently around him as he smiled up at the heavenly glow, wishing Evan was with him now. The sound of footsteps on the snow startled him but when he turned, no one was there. Jonathan smiled, his ghost must be here.

A sudden stinging pain shot through Jonathan’s arm, making him cry out. He turned his head, his wife eyes landing on the brightly coloured dart buried deep into his arm. He staggered, falling against the red tree, the light surrounding him.

“B-Brock! Brock! H-Help me!” Jonathan cried as he fell to the snow, unable to stand any longer. “B-Brock! Tyler! A-Anyone…” He collapsed into the snow, the world spinning around him as he looked up at the lights, watching it all fade into darkness.

 

“Who are they?”

“I don't know. They aren't carrying any identification…”

“They have weapons and a military truck. They are someone. Are they with whoever is behind the machines?”

“No. The only machine they had was this…It talks.”

“Talks? That's it?”

Jonathan’s head throbbed and he felt nauseous. He was sitting on a chair but when he tried to move, his tied hands convinced him to stay still. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing the others beside him. Tyler stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Jonathan watched him realise what had happened and begin to struggle.

“What the fuck is this? Who are you?” Tyler yelled. Jonathan followed his gaze to the two people standing at the other end of the room. One of them held the Vanoss-IV.

“Could ask you the same.” It was a woman. She handed the Vanoss-IV back to the man and stepped towards them. She wore all black, a hood over her head but Jonathan noticed that her leggings and boots sparkled.

“We aren't looking for any trouble with you. We’re just passing by.”

“Not anymore. Our trap popped your tyres. Don't you know that no one is supposed to come here?” She demanded.

“To the Wasteland?”

“No. Here.” She emphasised. Tyler still looked confused.

“We’re not from here. We are from a place called Old Town…well they are. I’m from New Town.” Jonathan explained. “We’ve never left it till now. We’re looking for our friend. He isn't here, we know that. We’re sorry if we upset you by getting close to whatever here is.”

“What do you think, Bryce?” The woman turned back to the man holding the Vanoss-IV. He shrugged.

“I believe them. They need to repair their truck before they can leave anyways so let's give them a place to stay then send them on their way. Besides, they might not want to leave anyways.” Bryce said as he studied the tablet. “What is this?”

“Fine then...You can stay while you fix your truck.” The woman said as she pushed her hood back. Blonde hair fell down her shoulders, her eyes and cheeks covered with bright sparkles. “I’m Kelly.” She pulled a knife from her belt, cutting the rope that held back their hands. “Welcome to La La Land.”

Jonathan was confused till Bryce pushed open the heavy metal door onto a world of lights and music. Once freed, he and the others moved cautiously towards the door, the loud music not allowing them to speak. People danced and drank, seemingly oblivious to the cold. Around the large opening, tents and makeshift buildings were filled with more people, smoke drifting on the wind around them. Jonathan felt a shove on his back, pushing him outside. He stumbled into the snow, wondering where all of these people came from. “Want a drink?” Kelly was barely heard over the noise as she walked past, leading them towards one of the tents. Jonathan had no choice but to follow her and the others. She pushed the flap open and grabbed a bottle off the bar inside. A man wearing a panda hat was passed out at the only table. She handed the bottle to Tyler who pulled the cork and took a swig before handing it to the others.

“Oh...Fuck what is that?” Tyler coughed. Kelly only smiled. Jonathan didn't want to take the bottle, glancing nervously at the passed out man than to the others who looked like they were already tipsy, their eyes wide as they looked around them.

“Come on; go join the fun.” She smiled before leaving the tent, the others almost compelled to join her. Jonathan took a deep breath and put the bottle to his lips. The alcohol stung as it went down his throat, making him cough and splutter. He set the bottle down on the table, wiping his mouth his sleeve. An odd warmth came over him and the music didn't seem so loud, it sounded perfect. He took another swig and hurried after the others. As he got closer to the dancing crowd, a trance seemed to come over him, pulling him closer.

“I love this place!” Tyler suddenly grabbed Jonathan and pulled him into the crowd. Without even wanting to or thinking about it, they found themselves dancing, jumping to the beat and hanging onto each other as the crowd pushed them. There was no cold, there was no pain. Confetti and sparkles rained down over them, covering their dark jackets in stardust. The owl patch on Jonathan’s shoulder looked golden.

Something red caught Jonathan’s eye through the crowd, making him turn away from the others. The crowd seemed to part for just a moment and Jonathan’s eyes widened. Evan watched him with an odd expression on his face. His chest was covered in blood, and at his feet was a rotten apple. The lights flashed and the ghost broke apart like glass.

“Jon!” He was suddenly spun around by Craig, pulled back into the present. He smiled, the vision already slipping from memory. They were right. There was nothing out there and there was everything here. He knew already that he didn't want to leave this place.


	7. Chapter 7

There was no worry, not a single care. Snow covered the truck and still no one cared. Why would they for there weren't any plans to go anywhere. Surrounded by beautiful silk pillows, Jonathan lay on the warm comfy floor of the large tent, looking up at the small hole at the top where smoke escaped into the cold morning. He hadn’t slept, he didn’t need to, nor did he want to. Evan would be there waiting for him if he fell asleep. He fumbled for the half empty bottle beside him, his hand reaching over the other empty bottles and the still smoking ashtray, it's ashes from a drug that made Jonathan feel like he was floating. 

“God…” The tent’s flap suddenly swung open as Craig staggered into the tent, collapsing beside him. “Fuck...Did you sleep?” 

“Did you?” Jonathan asked, his watery red eyes meeting Craig's as he shook his head. “You don't need to.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around one of the decorative pillows and hugged it. 

“C-Come...Come on. You need some air! Y-You’re wasted..” Craig stammered, pulling the pillow from Jonathan’s arms and yanked him roughly to his feet. They staggered into the morning light, the large clearing empty except the for the small group of people, the music never ending. “A-Are you still sad about Evan?” 

“No. I’m not...Not sad.” 

“But you didn't sleep…” 

“Neither did you.” Jonathan pointed out. Craig laughed. 

“I wasn't in a comfy tent all night d-doing nothing.” Craig reminded him. They stood in the snow, watching the lights twinkling and listening to the laughter. “I know what will cheer you up!” Craig hiccuped and grabbed onto Jonathan’s hand, pulling him with him across the clearing to the trees just beyond the tents. Even though it was morning, the brightly coloured lights shone brightly, winding up to the top of the trees. The lights seemed to create a maze, the warm glow pulling Jonathan into it. He chased after Craig, the two of them laughing as they ran through the snow, past a rainbow of lights. He caught up to him, stuffing snow down his collar. Craig shrieked as he struggled to get the snow out of his jacket, kicking icy snow back at Jonathan. 

“Leave!” A voice suddenly yelled, making Jonathan jump. He froze, looking around with wide eyes. 

“Did you hear that?” Jonathan whispered. 

“Hear what?” Craig asked as he gathered up snow in his hand, packing it into a snowball. 

“Someone said something…” Jonathan said, looking into the thick woods. 

“You’re wasted.” Craig laughed and threw the snowball at him. “Let's go back. I’m cold now.” Craig pushed past him, heading back towards the tents. Jonathan took one last look towards the woods before following Craig, deciding it was nothing but the dark woods beyond the beautiful lights playing tricks on him. 

  
  


“I feel like a god…” Tyler smiled, smoke drifting around him in heavy clouds. “Does this place make you into gods?” There was still a few hours before the sun went down, the late afternoon finding the boys laying on the warm pillows, watching the smoke float up towards the hole in the roof of the tent. 

“I don’t believe in gods.” Jonathan said, his red eyes glancing at Tyler for a moment before his attention was drawn somewhere else. “How are we supposed to look up to something, someone, so great but really they are just us? People make gods into these otherworldly beings, but I think they are as human as the rest of us. I don’t believe in humans so why should I believe in gods?” 

“You don’t believe in humans? What does that make you then? A machine?” Lui laughed, his arm thrown over his face. 

“No...I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t believe in people that let things like New Town and the Vanoss-III project happen. My father thought he was almighty and look at how easy he was brought down.” Jonathan wrapped his arms around one of the silky pillows, pressing his cheek against it. “Maybe he thought he lived in a world where death doesn’t exist...or at least he thought it didn’t exist for him.” 

“What...What did Smitty tell us again? Your dad or someone was involved in that project...to make something that is human but can outlive humans? Maybe he did try to make a world without death exist.” Brock wondered. 

“Shut up.” Tyler suddenly said. “I’m trying to sleep.” A pillow was tossed from the other side of the tent, landing on Tyler’s chest. “Stop it!” He laughed as Craig threw another one. Tyler grabbed Craig's arm, stopping him from throwing another one. They all laughed for a few moments before they settled into a comfortable silence. They weren't angry with each other, they wanted to be close. 

“Did we have something to do?” Brock suddenly sat up, looking around the tent. “I think we have something to do…We have to fix something.” 

“Relax.” Tyler yawned as he rolled onto his side, grabbing a bottle beside him and handed it to Brock, the harsh alcohol inside sloshing around the bottle. It was so dark, it made Jonathan wonder what it was but he didn't want to ask Kelly what she made them drink. “We got nothing to do…Ain't nothing to worry about.” 

 

“One...Two...Three…”

“You have to wake up.” Jonathan’s eyes opened slowly only to be blinded by a bright light. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to see the bridge around him, hearing it creak in the wind. Below him, the river flowed with a fury, white rapids dragging blocks of ice with them. In front of him was Evan, his red jacket the colour of blood against the snow. “You have to wake up. Snap out of this.” 

“O-Out of what?” Jonathan stammered.

“You’ll never leave!” Evan was suddenly in front Jonathan, his hands bloody and his eyes wide and black as if possessed. “Wake up!” Evan shoved Jonathan backwards, sending him stumbling towards the railing. 

“Evan! Stop!”

“You’ll never leave if you don't wake up!” Evan grabbed Jonathan's collar, lifting him off his feet. 

“Four...Five...Six…” 

“E-Evan!” Jonathan choked out. He didn't listen. Evan shoved Jonathan over the railing, sending him plummeting to the rapids below. Jonathan screamed, unable to stop himself from flailing his arms out as if to grab onto anything that would stop his fall. He crashed into the cold water, the current throwing him around as if he were nothing. Large blocks of ice rolled past him, bruising his shoulders they rolled past him. Struggling to hold his breath, he managed to find his way up and swam to the surface. “Evan!” Jonathan screamed. He gasped for air, struggling against the current that threatened to take him under again. He could see the river bank and it took all of his strength to swim towards it. His numb hands gripped onto a rock, pulling himself out of the freezing water. 

“You have to wake up. You're missing something important.” Jonathan looked up at Evan, heaving for air. In Evan’s hands was the Vanoss-IV. He raised it above his head and smashed it into the snow, the tablet breaking apart easily. Jonathan winced, flinching away from the flying pieces of metal. “Look.” Evan knelt down in front of him, reaching for the glowing blue consciousness chip. He pulled it out of its wiring and held it towards Jonathan. “Do you see it?” 

“S-See what?” Jonathan’s teeth chattered as shivers shook his body. Evan sighed and pointed. On the glass was a symbol, a watermark. “That's the symbol for ohms...The symbol for electrical resistance. S-So?” 

“You have to wake up. Snap out of this. La La Land is not beautiful.” Evan stood up slowly, looking down at Jonathan with sad eyes. He was now a soldier, red and white thread circling his arms. Over his heart was the golden owl. “This world needs you.” 

 

Jonathan awoke with a strangled cry. The tent was empty but now Jonathan could see it. The pillows were not glittery and silk but torn and stained fabric. There were holes in the tent and the stinging smell of drugs lingered in the air. 

“F-Fuck.” Jonathan got to his feet, exhaustion and the cold making him ache. He tripped over a pillow, his numb hands catching his fall on the disgusting pillows. “Ugh...fuck.” His right hand had landed in a puddle of spilt alcohol, only in the dim light, Jonathan could see that it wasn't alcohol. The black liquid dripped from his hands, looking more like poison than alcohol.  “Oh god…” Suddenly feeling very ill, he stumbled out of the tent and fell to his knees, unable to stop himself from throwing up. His stomach heaved and tears of pain leaked from his eyes. His head throbbed, hurting more and more with every movement he made. He struggled to his feet and felt the urge to be sick again. No one looked alive. A few hours ago, everyone looked so beautiful, so full of life but now under dying flickering lights, they looked like the dead come back from the grave. The music hurt Jonathan’s head, no longer perfect. “T-Tyler! Brock! L-” Jonathan fought back another wave of nausea as he made his way towards the crowd. “Lui! W-Where are you? Craig?” Jonathan yelled as loud as he could. He pushed past people who looked so pale and sick, so exhausted it amazed him that they were still on their feet. They had been cursed, put under a trance to make them think this was all they needed till the end. This was a safe place compared to the Wasteland beyond. “Tyler!” Jonathan screamed, feeling lost and lightheaded. He thought for a moment that he was going to pass out only to be trampled right there in the dirty snow. 

He ran back through the crowd, taking a deep breath as he made it out. If they weren't dancing, they were in the tents somewhere. He went from tent to tent, feeling sicker with each one. He shivered violently, wondering where his coat and gloves and hat had gone. They thought they weren't cold but as he looked down at his hands, he realised that his fingertips had gone blue. “Brock! Tyler!” He pulled open the flap of a tent and stopped when he saw Kelly, a furious look on her face. 

“Going somewhere, Jonathan?” She asked, a forced smile spreading on her lips. 

“Where are my friends?” 

“Having a great time.” She gestured to the large crowd behind him. “Why don't you go join them?” 

“You’ve poisoned us. You won't let us leave.” Jonathan snapped. “I know what you did.” 

“Everyone here is too drunk to listen to you. Besides...You won't be going anywhere without this, I assume?” From the table, she picked up the Vanoss-IV, giving him a smile. “Whatever this is, it's quite mean but it's your guide.” 

“I don't care what you think. You are killing people here.”  Jonathan held his hand out to take the Vanoss-IV. “We’re leaving.” Before he could react, Kelly brought the Vanoss-IV down onto the table, smashing it. “No!” Jonathan cried, flinching away from the flying pieces of metal. The glowing blue consciousness chip caught his eye. He lunged for it, his numb hand curling around it tightly before Kelly noticed it. On the glass was the ohm symbol, just as Evan had shown him. A hand suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s collar, choking him as he was dragged back and thrown out of the tent into the snow. Kelly kicked him hard in the side, the force knocking the air out of Jonathan’s lungs. He gasped for air, the glass of the consciousness chip digging into his palm. 

“How dare you threaten this place!” Kelly yelled, reaching down to grab the knife that had been hidden in her boot. She kicked Jonathan again, pain exploding through his ribs. She pinned him down to the snow, pressing the knife against his throat. “It is safe here. Out there is death.” 

“Then let us...let us go.” Jonathan said through gritted teeth. The sharp edge of the knife pressed into Jonathan’s skin, a thin line of blood appearing on his throat. Taking a deep breath, Jonathan managed to roll, shoving Kelly off.  The knife dug into his throat as he rolled suddenly, blood spurting onto the snow. He cried out in pain, pressing his hand to the wound as he scrambled to his feet. “Brock! Tyler! Lui!” Jonathan screamed, falling to his knees as they gave out under him. “Craig! Help!” He fell onto his side, seeing Kelly catching up to him. “Fuck fuck.” Blood covered his hand, nausea and dizziness not letting him get back up. 

“We got you…” Brock was suddenly there, wrapping his arms under Jonathan’s arms and pulled him to his feet. Tyler moved in front of them, protecting them. A flash of silver caught Jonathan’s eye, the knife in Lui’s hand reflecting the flickering lights. 

“Here.” Craig wrapped Jonathan’s jacket around him, the faded owl resting over his shoulder. 

“We’re leaving.” Tyler cried. “Try to stop us.” They all looked sick, but sober as well. They saw it too, the ruins that La La Land was. “Come on.” They hurried through the camp, avoiding those passed out or dead on the snow and ran for their truck. “The tyres!” As Brock helped Jonathan into the back, scrambling to find gauze, the others got to work on the tyres. They could hear yelling as Kelly and a group of others turned the corner, determined to stop them. 

“Come on!” Lui yelled as he swung into the back, reaching for the nearest gun and loaded it. “Hurry!” He shot a warning bullet into the air, making the group jump and stop for a moment. 

“One second!” Tyler yelled as he rolled the popped tyre away and reached for the new one from Craig. 

“Go go go!” Lui yelled, firing another shot in the direction of the group, missing on purpose. Jonathan closed his eyes tightly as he heard the yelling get louder and the sound of Lui jumping from the truck to fight. Gun shots echoed painfully in Jonathan’s ears, making him grab onto Brock’s arm tightly. He pressed his forehead against his shoulder, tears spilling from his eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Jonathan sobbed. 

“For what? We all got ourselves into this.” Brock reassured him. A bullet ricocheted off one of the poles behind him, making him jump. Jonathan nodded slightly, his grip tightening on Brock’s arm. 

“Lui come on! I got it!” Tyler suddenly yelled. The truck started up, the engine rumbling to life. Lui jumped and grabbed onto one of the poles, firing again at the group. Jonathan didn’t sit up to see what they had done. Jonathan heard the truck’s doors slam and it quickly sped up, driving down the small road as quickly as possible, past the trees that were lit up with flickering, dim coloured lights. 

“Are you okay?” Brock asked, keeping the gauze pressed to the deep cut on Jonathan’s throat. He nodded slowly, meeting Brock’s gaze. He looked sick and desperate for sleep. He doubted that he looked any different. 

“Are you?” 

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been drunk before.” Brock smiled. 

“N-Not like this...We weren’t drinking what we were told.” Lui said as he sat down beside them. “Was she a witch?”

“Maybe...I thought that place was beautiful...but it was if someone slapped me and I woke up.” Brock said, pulling back the gauze to check on the wound. 

“I want to forget about it. I feel so sick.” Lui groaned, leaning his head back. The truck suddenly slammed on its brakes, throwing them forward. The sound of something hitting the hood made them jump. Jonathan felt sick again. 

“Fuck!” Tyler’s door swung open as he jumped out. Jonathan sat up and watched him freeze, unable to move. 

“Tyler?” 

“What is it?” Lui climbed out of the back, jumping down the snow as Craig opened his door, leaning against it as he ran a hand through his hair. Brock got up and followed Lui out, leaving Jonathan struggling to sit up. He kept his hand to the gauze as he crawled to the end of the truck, kicking the door down and slid down to the snow. 

“G-Guys? What happened?” No one said a word; they couldn’t. A cold wind made Jonathan shiver as he moved towards the front of the truck, past Brock and Lui who looked disturbed and on the verge of tears. Past Tyler whose hands were curled into shaking fists. Jonathan’s eyes lowered to the road in front of the truck, a red jacket the colour of blood against the snow making his eyes widen. Fear and shock came over Jonathan, leaving him paralysed. Evan lay on the snow, unconscious from the impact of hitting the truck. Snow landed on his black hair, his fingertips looking blue from the cold. “Y-You're real…” Jonathan whispered as he shakily knelt down, reaching for Evan’s hand. He held onto it tightly, feeling a heartbeat.  

“You said they had taken the bodies too…” Brock managed to say. “He’s...reanimated…” 


	8. Chapter 8

The small fire flickered in the cold wind, spitting sparks into the sky with its smoke. A harsh wind would occasionally pull at the tents and dance with the fire, throwing smoke and sparks into the boys sitting around it for warmth. No one said a word. They had continued on, carrying what should be the corpse of their close friend into the back of their truck. They had to get far away from that horrible place but had to stop a few hours before the sun rose, exhaustion and sickness sending them to their tents as soon as they were up. They didn't even argue over where to put Evan till he woke up. 

Yet as the sun rose, those who couldn't sleep found themselves sitting around the fire, a cup of water or coffee held tight in their gloved hands. Jonathan however, stayed inside his tent, watching over Evan. His chest rose and fell slowly, but Jonathan could see the machine. He pressed the side of his head to Evan’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and the sound of gears. He knew it was Evan by the small scar on his forehead, the remains of the wound that killed him. 

“How are you here?” Jonathan wondered aloud, still listening to his heartbeat and the gears. “You are dead but living at the same time...You exist but you don't. You shouldn't be here but you are right where you need to be; where I need you to be...Are you the Evan I know? Or one I’ve never met?” Sighing, Jonathan sat up, his hand reaching for the owl patch on his shoulder. He yawned, fighting back another wave of exhaustion. He knew he’d be sick again if he didn't sleep but he didn't want to miss the moment that Evan woke up. Despite that, he found himself laying down beside him, wrapping himself up in a blanket. The sleeping bag and other blankets he had he covered Evan with. He tried his best to stay awake, watching Evan’s chest rise and fall slowly before his eyes drifted closed and he counted himself to sleep. 

 

“Are you…” There was a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Blue…” Jonathan's eyes snapped open, staring up into the dark eyes of someone who should be dead. Evan stared back down at him, his dark eyes wide with recognition. 

“Evan...Y-You’re awake.” 

“Jonathan.” 

“Oh my god.” Jonathan sat up quickly, making Evan jump back away from him. “Sorry, sorry. It's just...you know who I am?” 

“You’re Jonathan...I’m the Vanoss-III.” 

“I dropped you off a bridge!” 

“I remember. I just woke up and I had a body again.” Evan held out his hands, a look of amazement on his face as he did. “I’m alive again, Jonathan!” He laughed, his smile bright and full of wonder. Jonathan never thought he’d see that smile before. “I have to tell you something...But I can't remember what it is.” Jonathan knew he should tell him that he wasn't alive, that he was just a cruel manipulation by whoever created him. 

“It’s okay...You don’t have to say anything.” Jonathan said, giving him a small smile. He couldn’t tell him. “Do you want to see the others?” Evan’s eyes lit up and he nodded. “It’s cold out there so you’ll need this.” He handed Evan his red jacket, watching him pull it on. Jonathan wondered if Evan knew about his dreams; if he knew how many times Jonathan had seen that jacket covered in blood. He pushed the thought away and unzipped the tent, stepping into the cold. “He’s awake.” Tyler stood up, almost dropping his cup as he did. Evan stepped out of the tent shakily, his smile spreading when he saw the others. 

“Tyler!” Evan suddenly stepped forward and hugged Tyler tightly, startling him. Tyler didn’t hug Evan back. “It’s me, Evan!” His smile wavered when he saw Tyler’s cold expression. “What’s wrong?” Tyler didn’t answer anything. Brock and Lui pushed past Tyler, pulling Evan into a warm hug. Craig gave him a smile, glancing nervously at Tyler who didn’t move. 

“I can’t believe it.” Brock said as he moved away from the hug, tears in his eyes. “How…?” 

“I’m the Vanoss-III Evan. I remember everything that happened!” Evan explained. “I’m me.” 

“No...No.” Tyler suddenly said, his voice full of pain and anger. “Evan is dead. You're a copy. A machine. Sent to hurt us more.” He took a step towards Evan, making him back up, a look of fear spreading across his face. “You aren’t Evan.” 

“Yes, I am! I know who I am, Tyler!” Evan cried, looking to Jonathan for help. 

“No, you don’t! You’re a computer chip! You are a series of codes pretending to be Evan! You’re a machine!” He suddenly hit Evan, sending him falling to the snow. 

“Stop it!” Jonathan yelled, suddenly lunging forward to shove Tyler. He stumbled backwards, able to catch himself before he fell. 

“And don’t get me started on you! You’re as much as an imposter as he is!” Tyler swung at Jonathan who jumped out of the way, almost tripping over Evan as he scrambled away from them. “You’ll blindly believe whatever he tells you! Don’t you see? This is a trick! It’s meant to hurt us!” Tyler grabbed Jonathan’s collar, choking him. The owl patch on Tyler’s shoulder glinted in the bright light, it’s large eyes watching everything. “We have to kill that thing before it hurts us. Before it kills us!” 

“Evan isn’t going to do that!” Jonathan gasped out. “Just because some parts of him have been replaced with gears and wires doesn’t mean that he isn’t human anymore.” Tyler pushed Jonathan back, almost sending him falling to the snow. He caught himself and gasped for air, his furious gaze locked on Tyler whose anger had now turned to Evan. 

“You should be dead.” Tyler snarled. 

“I-I know…” Evan stammered.

“Did you know we would be here?” 

“No.” 

“Liar!” Tyler swung his foot back to kick the machine in front of him but was stopped by Brock who shoved Tyler backwards. 

“Stop it!” Brock yelled, shocking the others. “Just stop. Evan is telling the truth, he doesn’t know how he got here. And don’t you dare hit him again. He’s Evan. You said there was a wound on his head, do you see the scar? That’s our Evan!” 

“Our Evan is dead.” 

“But he’s right here...right now.” Brock said, pointing to Evan as Jonathan helped him to his feet. Evan leant against him, looking between Brock and Tyler with wide, fearful eyes. “Yes, him being here hurts us and messes with us, but he’s here! Jonathan is right. He’s still human.” 

“This is fucked.” Tyler shook his head. “We’re going to die in this fucking wasteland and it’ll be your fault for thinking that monster is our friend.” He turned on his heel, storming away from the camp into the woods. 

“Tyler where are you going?” Craig yelled after him. Tyler didn’t answer, only flipped Craig off as he disappeared among the trees. 

“Give him time...He’s just shocked is all.” Brock said, trying to reassure Evan. He didn’t meet Brock’s gaze, his dark eyes on the snow. “You’re a miracle, Evan.” 

 

“He hates me. He has always hated me like this...I’m real, aren't I?” Jonathan nodded. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks but he fought them back. He would not cry in front of Evan. 

“You’re real.” 

“How? How am I real, Jonathan?” Evan cried. He held onto his blanket tightly, his knuckles white. Evan refused to eat, to even talk to the others, his fear of them and their anger driving him back into Jonathan’s tent. “You’re the one who knows how machines work!” 

“I know...I know...It's just...Tyler thinks that this is wrong. Once a body is dead...it's wrong to bring it back. You are like a zombie or a ghost to him. You shouldn't exist like this.” Jonathan sighed. “I can't tell you how you are real, Evan. Do you feel real?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you know what ‘real’ is?” 

“I’m existing.” 

“Are you happy?” 

“Maybe one day…When this is over.” 

“And do you know what will happen to you if you don't achieve that goal?” 

“I know what you are doing.” Evan’s tone had suddenly darkened, his hands slowly letting go of the blanket. “Am I just another mechanical experiment to you? Like all those machines you tested for your father?” 

“No. You’re Evan.” Jonathan reached for Evan’s hand, holding on to it tightly. “That's all that matters.” 

“I’ve been sent here to hurt you, Jonathan. I have to tell you something.” Evan said sadly. Jonathan knew that he would cry if he could. 

“Then tell me. I can handle it.” 

“You can't handle what you’ll find.” Evan said, making Jonathan freeze. Evan had said that to him before in a nightmarish dream. He couldn't know about the dreams, could he? 

“Tell me, Evan.” 

“I can't remember...But I do know that I don't want to tell you.” Evan was shaking. Jonathan pulled him into a hug, pressing his forehead against Evan’s shoulder. 

“You have to do what is right.” 

“This isn't right. This world isn't right.” 

 

“One...Two...Three…” 

“Evan!” The scream escaped Jonathan’s throat as he reached for his friend, his eyes wide with shock. 

“Four...Five...Six…” Another gunshot echoed through the air, echoing painfully in Jonathan’s ears. He could only watch Evan as he reached his arm around to his back, his hands coming away bloody. Blood dripped to the snow. 

“Evan!” 

“Seven...Eight...Nine…” 

“Save me.” Evan said, reaching for Jonathan before he collapsed to the snow, his empty eyes staring up at the sky. 

 

Jonathan awoke with a gasp only to come face to face with the barrel of a gun. Still struggling to catch his breath, he looked up, meeting Tyler’s calm gaze. 

“Tyler…” 

“Move.” His eyes narrowed slightly. Over his shoulder, Jonathan could see the night sky and the faint glow of the dying fire. Behind Jonathan, Evan slept peacefully. 

“Tyler don't...He’s not going to hurt us.” Jonathan said calmly. “Put the gun down, let's just talk about this okay? Let’s get Brock and Lui...we’ll talk, okay? We can figure this out. There’s no need for thi-” 

“You always say ‘do what is right’...This is right, Jonathan. I'm sorry." Tyler suddenly swung the barrel at Jonathan, the hard metal crashing into his skull. He cried out in pain as he fell to the soft floor of the tent, blood trickling down the side of his head. He struggled to stay conscious, swinging his legs out to trip Tyler before he could make it to Evan. As he fell, he pulled the trigger, the bullet creating a hole in the tent just beyond Evan’s head. Evan jumped awake, scrambling backwards as Jonathan got to his feet, grabbing Tyler’s collar and dragged him into the snow. Tyler suddenly rolled, twisting Jonathan’s arm as he did. 

“Fuck!” Jonathan winced in pain as he struggled to hold onto Tyler, the pain bringing him to his knees. Tyler pulled away and tackled Jonathan back down to the snow, wrapping his arms around his neck in a chokehold. Jonathan gasped for air, flailing his limbs and kicking at Tyler in an attempt to get away. 

“Tyler stop!” Evan yelled. “This isn’t you!” Caught off guard, Tyler’s grip loosened as he looked up at Evan, giving Jonathan the opportunity to get away. A strong kick to his side threw Tyler down onto the snow, reminding him of his anger. He grabbed his fallen gun and aimed it at Evan. 

“Better to kill you before you kill us!” Tyler pulled the trigger as Jonathan kicked his wrist, the bullet once more barely missing Evan who flinched away. Letting out a snarl of rage, Tyler grabbed Jonathan’s ankle, pulling him down to the snow. 

“Run!” Jonathan yelled as he scrambled to his feet. Evan bolted into the woods and Jonathan followed, glancing back over his shoulder to see Tyler close behind. 

“Why won’t you listen to me, Jonathan? Do what is right!” Tyler yelled, his voice echoing through the cold forest. Jonathan ignored him, keeping his eyes on Evan’s red jacket up ahead. A bullet flew past Jonathan, chips of wood flying off a tree beside him. Taking a deep breath,  he ducked behind a tree, watching Evan turn back over his shoulder to look for him. Something dark caught Jonathan’s eye, his gaze turning away from Evan to Evan. The soldier stood in the snow, blood dripping from his gloved hands. Jonathan looked between both Evans, not sure which one was real. 

Tyler suddenly ran past him, not aware of Jonathan till he jumped out from behind his cover and brought Tyler down to the snow. Tyler cried out in shock, throwing Jonathan off. “Listen to me! Listen!” Tyler grabbed Jonathan’s coat, shaking him roughly. His head rang with pain, making him reach out to grab onto Tyler’s arms in an attempt to steady himself but also to struggle away from him. “Stop!” Tyler yelled as Jonathan struggled to get away. “Listen to me! Evan will kill us! He’s been sent here by whoever sent those war machines! He’s here to hurt us! He isn’t our friend! He doesn’t remember you!” 

“Yes, he does! He’s Evan! That consciousness chip is the original one! The one that remembers everything, before and after death!” Jonathan cried, struggling to push Tyler off him. The owl patches on their shoulders stared at each other with their large wide eyes. 

“You dropped him off a bridge!” Tyler yelled. “This is a liar! A big fucking liar!” 

“He’s Evan!” Jonathan yelled back, hearing running footsteps towards them. 

“Tyler stop!” Brock called out. There were footsteps in the opposite direction. 

“He’s a liar!” 

“Stop!” 

“It’s Evan!” 

“Liar!” 

“Stop it!” 

“Dear Tyler…” They all froze. Tyler looked up, seeing Evan standing in front of him, struggling to catch his breath. “I never knew how to tell you that I am alive but I do know how to tell you that I am dead. They...They are going to kill me very shortly, Tyler. I know you would be scared and angry, yelling at me to fight.” Tyler dropped Jonathan to the snow, getting to his feet as tears welled up in his eyes. “You wouldn’t let me give up…” 

“You wrote to me.” Tyler breathed, reaching for Evan. 

“You got my letters?” Evan asked as Tyler nodded, taking a slow step towards him. 

“I'm sorry...I know it’s you, Evan...But you should be dead...You shouldn’t exist like this. It’s so cruel.” Tyler said, shaking his head. The gun in his hand shook. 

“But I’m here...With you. Right now. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. I know that I’m not what you want me to be...But I’m Evan. I know I am. I remember our home by the bridge, I remember 3:57. I remember my toy soldiers and my poems.” Evan said, his voice full of pleading. “I remember you.” Tyler dropped the gun, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, hiding his tears. 

“Fucking...god damn it.” Tyler cried as Evan took a step towards him and pulled him into a hug, both of them dropping to their knees as Tyler cried onto his shoulder. “I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry…” Tyler sobbed. “I believe you...I’m so sorry.” 

 

The sun rose slowly over the trees, the warm light making the world sparkle. A thin ray of light shone through the bullet hole in the tent, Evan’s red jacket reflecting the warm glow. 

“He hit you pretty bad...Are you sure you are okay?” Evan asked; the small cloth in his hand damp with warm water and blood. He cleaned the wound on Jonathan’s head, the cut deeper than both of them had thought it was. Jonathan nodded, still feeling light headed from his fight with Tyler. 

“I’m fine...Really.” Jonathan said, giving him a smile. He had seen the real Evan, but he had also seen the ghost of him, standing among the trees. Something told him that both of them were real. He had to ask Evan if he knew about his dreams, if he knew that he had once been a soldier.  “Evan, I’ve been hav-”

“I remember what I have to tell you.” Evan suddenly said, dropping the cloth. He stared at Jonathan with wide, fearful eyes for a moment before he lowered his gaze, shaking his head. “I can’t...I can’t do it.” 

“Tell me, Evan. What is it?” Jonathan begged. “I can handle it.” Evan sighed and shook his head again as he looked back up at him. “Please, tell me.” 

“I’m not the only machine.” Evan finally said, his sad gaze locked onto Jonathan’s. “Someone else here is a machine too…” 


	9. Chapter 9

“Someone else here is a machine too…” Evan’s words haunted Jonathan. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat breakfast. He watched. He watched Brock take down his and Lui’s tent, a smile on his face. He watched Craig drink his coffee with Tyler, checking on him occasionally to make sure he was okay. He watched Lui clean his knives from where he sat on the front seat of the truck, his calm gaze watching the others. He watched Tyler help the others with taking the camp down, his shoulders heavy with regret. He watched Evan move stiffly, the machine trying to be human. 

“If someone else is a machine...Does that mean they are spying on us for whoever sent the war machines? For who sent you?” Jonathan had asked Evan who could only nod. “And you don't know who it is?” He had nodded again, fear creeping into his mind. 

“Are you okay?” Brock suddenly asked, making Jonathan jump. “You seem out of it.” 

“Just...sore is all.” Jonathan shrugged, forcing a smile. 

“Tyler’s sorry.” 

“I know.” Jonathan nodded. 

“Come on! We still got a long way to go. I guess we can't rely on the Vanoss-IV anymore, can we?” Brock asked. It couldn't be him, there was too much happiness, too much emotion. 

“Survive past regular human life, but still be human mentally…” Smitty had said. Jonathan found himself wondering if the Delirious project that he had told them about was the same thing; if it had served as a blueprint for Evan. He pushed the thought away, deciding that it couldn't be Brock. 

“Yeah...We do have a symbol, though.” Jonathan said as he followed Brock into the back of the truck where Lui and Evan had already settled in. The truck rumbled to life as the truck’s front doors closed, finally on it way again. Jonathan reached into his bag, pulling out the Vanoss-IV chip and pointed to the ohm symbol. “It's a watermark. Someone made it. If we can figure out whose mark this is, we know who sent the machines.” 

“What is that?” Evan asked. Jonathan hesitated, glancing at the others who wouldn't meet his gaze; none of them wanting to be the one to tell Evan. 

“It's...It’s you. Or at least a version of you.” Jonathan explained, placing the glowing blue chip in Evan’s hands. “This one isn't nearly as nice.” 

“It's me…” Evan stared at the chip, his eyes wide with a mix of emotions. Jonathan couldn't imagine what he felt; to hold oneself in the palm of their hand. Slowly, his look of shock turned into a smile. “I’m an idea…Something you can never destroy. That's what I told Tyler in..In my last letter. But I never thought…” Evan made an odd sound as if a sob was stuck in his throats and he couldn't get it out. “Never thought it'd be like this.” He handed the consciousness chip back to him, his hands shaking as he placed it in Jonathan’s palm. “So many different versions of me...how do I know which one is really me?” 

 

“One...Two...Three…” 

Snow drifted through the trees, landing on a makeshift camp of military tents and a dying fire. Jonathan stood in the middle of it, hearing footsteps in the snow behind him. 

“Someone is a machine...Who is it?” 

“Why do you think I know?” Evan asked from where he stood behind Jonathan, the back of his soldier’s uniform soaked with blood. 

“Four...Five...Six…” 

“Because you’ve told me everything that has happened so far. You told me not to come out here. You told me that I won’t be able to handle what I’ll find. Is this it? Is this machine what I can’t handle?” Jonathan yelled in anger as he turned to face the ghost. “Tell me who it is! Or I don’t believe in you. You aren’t really real, are you? You’re just a figment of my imagination! I wanted you to be real so I’ve given myself nightmares, made you a soldier from a war that ruined this world! That makes sense, doesn’t it? Fuck you! Fuck these nightmares!” Jonathan screamed, kicking one of the tents and knocked it down. 

“Stop it.” A new voice made him jump, fear and confusion washing over him. “You’re better than this.” Jonathan turned around slowly to face himself. He wore a uniform just like Evan did, an owl patch over his heart. “Jonathan, you have to think now, but I think you know who it is.” 

“You’re...you’re me…” Jonathan stammered. 

“Seven...Eight...Nine…” 

“What will you do when you come face to face with this machine, Jonathan?” Evan asked, glancing at the soldier across from him with the matching patch. 

“You have to do what is right, Jonathan.” Jonathan told himself. “Figure it out.” 

 

Jonathan awoke with a start, looking around the back of the truck with wide eyes. He had been asleep long enough for the sun start dipping towards the horizon, snow falling around them as the truck rumbled down the road. He met Evan’s gaze, who gave him a look that asked if he was alright. He nodded slightly, turning away from him. A version of himself had been in that dream, a soldier just like Evan. 

“You know who it is…” He had told himself. Jonathan glanced around at Lui and Brock. They were too relaxed, too emotional. They saw a world filled with colour. He knew who it was. Someone who had asked to join them because he didn't want to be left behind. Though he had helped them take down New Town, he was a creation of it. Yet the more he thought about it, the more sloppy it seemed to him. If this machine was spying for who sent the war machines and Evan, it was too convenient that it would be him. Evan wasn't going to hurt them, his only purpose had been to tell Jonathan that someone among them was also a machine. It was supposed to hurt them, more than Evan’s reanimation hurt them. It couldn't be Craig but Jonathan couldn't  think of anyone else it could be. He had tried to test Craig before and even though it hadn't worked, he had to try again. He couldn't just accuse him of being a machine because no one would believe him except Evan and that wasn't enough. 

 

“Dinner is ready.” Craig called out, a smile. Tyler jumped down from the back of the truck, bullet shells falling to the snow. 

“Don't lose those!” Lui reminded him. “We need them and I don't want to die because you forget them.” 

“Relax, Lui. We got enough to last the winter.” Tyler laughed as they made their way to the campfire and the small bunsen burner, a pot of warm soup bubbling on top. 

“I didn’t think we had that much.” Brock joked, an exaggerated expression of confusion on his face that broke into a smile as they sat down beside him around Craig. 

“Thank you, Craig.” Evan said with a stiff smile as if he was still getting used to his ‘muscles’. 

“You’re welcome.” Craig nodded. To Jonathan, it seemed like there was something mechanical about the way he poured the soup into their metal bowls. 

“Are you okay, Jonathan?” Brock asked, suddenly snapping Jonathan out of his thoughts. He nodded, suddenly finding himself unable to say anything. “Jon?” 

“I-I…” Jonathan stammered, his wide eyes locked on Craig. “M-M…” 

“Jonathan what’s happening?” 

“Ma-mach…” 

“You know who it is…” He couldn’t breathe, panic and fear strangling him as the words he had told himself echoed deafeningly in his mind. “You know who it is! You know who it! You know who it is! You know who it-”

“Jonathan.” Evan suddenly took Jonathan’s hand, a feeling of calmness washing over him. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know…” Jonathan breathed, meeting the other’s confused, wide-eyed stares. “Sorry...I...There was something in my throat.” He coughed and managed a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, Craig.” He took the warm bowl from him, the spoon in his hand shaking. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tyler asked, noticing Jonathan’s shaking hand. 

“You know who it is.” Jonathan looked at all of the faces of his friends, seeing gears behind their eyes and wires replacing their veins. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling hot soup splash against his hand and burn. 

“Jonathan?” He opened his eyes, looking back up at them. 

“I’m fine.” He repeated. “I’m fine.” 

 

“Why did you tell me?” 

“I had to.” Jonathan shook his head, meeting Evan’s sad gaze. 

“No...No, you said you didn’t want to.” Jonathan turned away from him, looking off into the dark woods. After dinner, he had wandered away from the camp, trying to clear his head but it hadn’t worked. More questions filled his mind and they refused to be ignored. Evan had followed him, keeping his distance for a little while before Jonathan had finally acknowledged him. Now they walked together through the snow but stopped when Jonathan couldn’t stop the words and the tears in his eyes. “You were...programmed to tell me. How do I know you were telling the truth?" He took a deep breath, shaking his head.  "I can't trust you...I can trust the Vanoss-III, but you...You aren’t the Vanoss-III...You’re a zombie...a ghost! Fuck, the Evan in my dreams is more real than you!” 

“You dream about me…?” Evan looked surprised. 

“Did you lie to me?” Jonathan suddenly grabbed Evan’s collar and slammed him against the nearest tree, choking him. “If I pull out your consciousness chip will I find an ohm symbol on it?” 

“I’m not lying to you!” Evan shoved Jonathan off with more force than any human could have. Jonathan fell to the snow, looking up at Evan with terror. He took a step towards him, making Jonathan scramble back on the icy snow. “There is someone else that is a machine. I had to tell you...Yes, I was probably told to tell you, I don’t know. But I would never lie to you, Jonathan.” 

“I want to believe you…”

“Then believe me! I will never lie to you, Jonathan! There is another machine here! I don’t know who it is...You’ve been with them since the start of this, you know who it is!” Evan cried. Jonathan tensed. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m just so scared that it’s you...It can’t be you, right Jonathan?” He didn’t say anything. “Right Jonathan?” 

“I don’t know, Evan!” Jonathan yelled as he got to his feet, ice and snow falling from his back. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore! You’re haunting me! You weren’t ever a soldier but I keep seeing you as one! I keep seeing you covered in blood, dying and warning me about something that has yet to happen! I don't know what is real and what isn't anymore!” Evan simply stared at him, watching him break down. “I want you to be the Vanoss-III, the Evan I kept safe and fought for! You say you remember me…” 

“I only remember you as flashes of blue light and a voice. A distant voice that helped me find myself again. I told you, I’m the Vanoss-III.” Evan said, his tone the same as the one he used to call Tyler down. Jonathan shook his head, turning away from Evan only to stop when he realised that he also stood behind him. The soldier stared at Jonathan, blood dripping down his back. 

“Oh god…” Jonathan cried, tears falling from his eyes. “I’m losing my mind, Evan…” He turned back around only to scream when he saw blood dripping from a wound in Evan’s forehead.

"Jonathan?" He turned away from the two dead Evans and ran into the woods, his tears blinding him. He tripped and stumbled, crashing into the snow. 

“Isn't it a beautiful night…?” He slowly looked up at the Evan that stood in front of him, a rotting apple in his hand and blood blossoming on his chest. The smile on his face was forced and full of pain. Jonathan screamed again, scrambling to his feet and ran. 

“You know who it is!” A soldier with his own face yelled at him, following him among the crooked trees. “You know who it is and you can't run from it!” 

“Leave me alone!” Jonathan screamed. “Leave me alone! Please! Leave me alone!” He fell to his knees, gasping for air between violent sobs. 

“You won't be able to handle it.” The soldier with a bleeding back said as he walked around Jonathan, his footsteps silent on the icy snow. 

“Don't lose yourself.” Jonathan’s attention turned to the monster, his red jacket torn like the bandages around his hands. This Evan’s eyes looked like a malfunctioning computer screen. 

“You’re making me lose my mind!” Jonathan screamed at them. “What do you want from me?” 

“Do what is right.” His eyes went down to the red glow of the Vanoss-III’s screen, a sob escaping his throat as his cold hands curled around the tablet. “You have to do what is right. This world needs you.” 

 

Jonathan couldn't stop himself from screaming as he woke up. He sat up suddenly, heaving for air. He scrambled to the front of the tent, pulling down the zipper and stepped into the cold dawn. 

“Jonathan? What is it?” Evan placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, making him flinch and push his hand away. 

“Don't...Don't touch me…” Jonathan stammered. “I don't know if you real…” 

“Of course I’m real. It was just a bad dream, Jon.” Evan said calmly, trying to reassure him. 

“What's going on?” Tyler stepped out of his tent, glancing between Evan’s calm expression and Jonathan’s pale, sickly stare. 

“I heard a scream.” Craig said, peeking his head out of the tent. 

“You…” Jonathan suddenly grit his teeth, his hands curling into fists as he stormed towards Craig. He grabbed his shirt and threw him to the snow. “It's you, isn't it?” 

“Jonathan what the fuck?” Tyler yelled, pushing him back. 

“He’s a machine! He's spying on us!” Jonathan shook Craig roughly, his grip on his collar choking the air from his lungs. Craig struggled, trying to push Jonathan off. 

“How do you know?” Tyler demanded, pulling Jonathan off Craig. Craig spat at Jonathan as he got up, brushing the cold snow from his pants. Full of rage, Jonathan could only answer Tyler's question by pointing at Evan. “Fucking christ… No one except Evan is a machine! I’ve known Craig for years, Jon!” 

“Evan was programmed to do nothing to us but tell us that someone here is a machine! He can't lie!” Jonathan yelled though he wondered if Evan had really said that or if it had only been a dream. 

“What happened?” Lui’s tent unzipped and he and Brock climbed out, looking between the four of them with confusion. 

“Did he say that someone else is a machine?” Brock asked, his eyes widening. Tyler nodded. “Oh...God.”

“What does this mean? That we’re being spied on by the ohm guy?” Lui asked. “How do we know that isn't what Evan is doing right now?” 

“I promise you...I’m not!” Evan held up his hands in defence. “I swear I'm not spying! I don't even know who uses the ohm symbol!” 

“But whoever is a machine...is spying?” Craig clarified. When Jonathan nodded, he began to laugh. “You think I’m a machine? Have you seen me? I am not made out of metal or whatever the fuck is keeping Evan functional.” Evan seemed to flinch at the words, looking away from Craig. Jonathan lunged at Craig again only to be held back by Tyler. 

“You were never supposed to come with us! You just showed up conveniently right as we were about to leave and asked for an adventure just because you helped out the last time!” Jonathan snapped. 

“He's right…” Brock sighed. “Craig was never a part of our plan to come out here.”

“That doesn't mean shit!” Craig yelled, suddenly shoving Jonathan back. He swung at him, missing and staggering past Jonathan who tripped him. Craig let out a cry of anger and brought Jonathan down with him, hitting him as hard as he could. Jonathan snarled and threw Craig off, kneeing his side. 

"Stop it!" Tyler yanked Craig to his feet, giving Jonathan the opportunity to get back up, his lip cracked and bleeding. 

“Have you ever thought that maybe it's you, New Towner? You came from that sick fucking tower where they did the Vanoss-III project! How do we know that you aren't the Delirious project or whatever the hell Smitty was talking about!” Craig got to his feet, staring Jonathan down as he waited for a response. "If anyone here is going to be a machine, it only makes sense if it's you!" 

“I’m not...Not…” Jonathan suddenly found himself unable to speak, just as he had earlier. He couldn't process what Craig had just said to him. 

“You know who it is.” 

“I’m not a-a m-m-” 

“What?” Craig’s brow furrowed, glancing at the others as Jonathan spluttered, struggling to speak. 

“Oh...No.” Evan breathed. Jonathan met his gaze, feeling as if the world was suddenly collapsing in on him. “I didn't know.” 

“Know what?” Tyler cried. “Jon? Fuck, what's happening?” 

“Jonathan?” 

“Jon!” He ignored them as he moved slowly past them, realisation dawning on him. His friends were too real. His life wasn't. Before meeting them, his life was routine, programmable. He knew who it was. Once at the truck, he reached into the back for one of Lui's knives. 

“Jonathan don't.” Evan warned. Jonathan looked down at the blade, seeing his own reflection. When Lui tried to get close to him to take the knife away, Jonathan jumped back, threatening him with it. 

“I know who it is…” Jonathan said, tears falling from his eyes. “Craig’s right. It only makes sense...But there is only one way to prove it...Right?” He fixed his grip on the handle of the knife with his right hand, stretching out his left arm. Taking a deep breath, he plunged the knife into his arm, blood splattering to the snow as Jonathan cried out in pain. 

“Stop it!” Brock yelled, wanting to stop him. Lui held him back despite how much he struggled. "You don't have to do this, Jon!" Jonathan ignored him, gritting his teeth as he pulled the knife up the length of his arm, cutting it open. Blood spilt down his arm, soaking his clothes and the snow around him. Weakly, he dropped the knife to the snow, looking up at the others who were horrified, even Evan. Unable to look at them anymore, he turned his gaze back down to his arm, knowing that he wasn't done yet. He winced as he forced himself to peel back the skin, telling himself that he had to be wrong. He opened his eyes, letting out a cry of pain and shock as he did. Jonathan began to laugh, falling against the side of the truck. 

“It’s me…” Jonathan felt numb. “I’m the machine…” There were no veins and there were no bones. Gears clicked and wires ran up and down the length of his arm, metal glinting in the dim light that began to fade around him. Jonathan looked back up at his friends as he slid down the side of the truck, the world going dark as he collapsed to the blood soaked snow. 


	10. Chapter 10

“Hello, Jonathan. I have a few questions for you. Can you answer them?” A bright light had blinded him as he opened his eyes, taking in the white room and the two men sitting across him. He nodded though he didn't want to. “Good. First, do you feel real?” 

“No.” 

“Great. We gotta reset and try again.” One of the men said as he started to get up. 

“Just a moment. Why don't you feel real, Jonathan?” 

“I know what you did..” 

“We saved you, Jonathan. You would have died in the cold.” 

“I was already dead...And...And so was he…” Sadness had crashed over him. There was a pain in his chest where a human heart should be. 

“Who is...he?” 

“You didn't save him!” Jonathan suddenly yelled, jumping to his feet. “It's your fault he's dead! He's dead! Dead!” He fell against the white wall, closing his eyes tightly. “Why didn't you save him? Why didn't you save Evan?” 

“It's alright, Jonathan. That's enough.” The second man had a tablet in his hand, glancing between the screen and him. Slowly, he began to calm down, his anger and pain fading. “That’s enough…” The first man guided Jonathan back to his chair the same way a parent would guide a child. “Reset him and we’ll try again.” 

 

The sound of the wind and the rumble of the truck’s engine surrounded Jonathan. The cold wind nipped at his cheeks, leaving him numb. His left hand twitched, pain shooting up his arm. For a moment, he couldn't remember why his arm hurt so much but then the memories came flooding back to him. 

“I’m the machine…” His eyes fluttered open, looking up at the green canopy, the fabric rippling the wind. 

“Jon?” His gaze drifted to Tyler, making him wonder who was driving. “Are you awake?” His gaze drifted away from Tyler to Evan who seemed pale, as if damned to a state of shock and regret. At the sound of Tyler’s voice, Evan looked up and met Jonathan’s gaze, surprised to see him awake. 

“Jonathan?” Evan moved towards him slowly, caution making his movements stiffer than usual. “Please say something.” 

“I'm...I’m sorry…” Jonathan finally managed to say. He could taste blood. 

“No. No, don't be sorry. You didn't know. It's okay.” Evan reassured him. 

“You freaked us all out, though...I'm amazed you’re ali- I mean…” Tyler struggled to think of a better word, finally giving up when nothing came to him. “We thought you were gone.” 

“I wish I was gone…” Jonathan closed his eyes tightly, feeling tears ooze down his numb cheek. He pressed his right hand over his eyes, not wanting to look at them anymore. “Stop the truck.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Stop the fucking truck!” Jonathan suddenly sat up, pain shooting up his left arm. Evan and Tyler jumped back, glancing at each other nervously for a moment before Tyler nodded and got up, waving towards the front of the truck. As it slowed to a stop, Jonathan managed to get up, gathering up his things. 

“Jonathan...What are you doing?” Evan watched him as he struggled to pull his jacket on, the owl patch staring back at Evan with its wide eyes. 

“Jon!” Tyler yelled as he jumped down from the back, wincing as he landed on the icy snow. Brock and Lui got out of the truck, both surprised and even relieved to see Jonathan awake. “Jon!” Tyler had followed Jonathan off the truck and grabbed his right arm, stopping him. “What are you doing?” 

“I have to leave you.” Jonathan said quietly. He hadn't wanted to think about it, hadn't wanted to do this but he had no choice. “I’m a spy...That's why you keep getting hurt. Because of me...somehow whoever wants to ends us knows where you are! I can't let anything happen to you.” 

“Stop it. We’ve been through hell before this, Jon! What makes you think that leaving will make it not happen again? We’re in this now whether we like it or not and we have to stay together if we want to get out of it alive!” Tyler cried. “I know we’ve had our differences and it's been tough but-” 

“Tough? Really? Fucking tough? You made me think you all hated me! That I was completely alone, out here for no goddamn reason!” Jonathan yelled back. “That's not just ‘tough’, Tyler!” 

“Then what are you going to do? Be like fucking Smitty, wandering the Wasteland till you die?” 

“I can't die.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Don't you get it?” Jonathan cried. “Don't you know who I am?” No one could answer him. “I’m the Delirious Project.” 

“Bullshit. You’re not ninety years old.” Lui scoffed. 

“I can't explain it right now...I can't remember but-” 

“But nothing. You aren't the Delirious project. You’re Jonathan.” Brock said, cutting him off. “And we’re your friends. You can't leave us.” 

“It's because you’re my friends that I have to leave you. I can't let you get hurt anymore. I’m not living...I'm nothing.” Jonathan looked away from them into the woods. “I’m a machine.” 

“Then what does that make me?” Evan suddenly yelled, startling Jonathan. He stood by the truck, his hands curled tightly into fists. “Am I nothing too?” 

“Evan no...I didn't mean-” 

“They killed me to make me this, Jonathan! I know exactly how you fee-”

“I don't feel! You were alive once, Evan! I’ve never been alive! I don't… I don't know what you feel.” Jonathan yelled back. Evan looked hurt, his eyes full of anger as his hands curled into tight fists. 

“Then go.” Evan suddenly spat. “If machines are nothing...if that's how you’ve always felt...Then you are nothing to me.” He jumped back into the truck, not meeting Jonathan’s gaze. 

“Jon you aren't making sense. Let's just get back in the truck and we’ll figure this out, okay?” Brock said, reaching his hand toward Jonathan who pushed it away roughly. 

“No. Just go.” Jonathan said, his eyes on the snow. No one moved. “Go!” Jonathan screamed at them, making them all jump. 

“Fucks sake.” Lui turned away and climbed back into the truck, the engine rumbling to life. 

“Jonathan don't do this.” Brock pleaded. Jonathan ignored him. 

“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Tyler spat and climbed into the back, leaving Brock alone with him. 

“Brock let's go! It's pointless!” 

“Jonathan...I’m not going to give up on you.” 

“Go.” Jonathan’s voice broke, finally meeting his gaze. “Please.” 

“We want to help, Jonathan.” Brock pleaded. “Don't leave us.” Jonathan didn't answer him, the silence stretching between them. 

“Brock!” 

“Please come with us.” Still, Jonathan couldn't say anything. “Fine...Fine…” Brock shook his head, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. “Fine...We’ll go. You are making a mistake by not listening to us.” Brock told him before he turned away and headed back to the truck. He watched him get in, noticing that Evan wouldn't look at him. Tyler glanced back at him for a moment before the truck pulled away and continued down the road. Jonathan watched it, the cold wind whipping around him, pulling his coat. Before long, the truck was gone over the horizon, leaving Jonathan completely alone in the Wasteland. 

 

Snow fell through the tall pines, the steep slopes now becoming jagged mountainsides. Jonathan hadn't realised how close they come. Crows flew overhead, their voices growing louder when the occasional eagle dared fly nearby. As the sun began to set, the valleys were plunged into darkness early, the mountains blocking out the dying light. An owl watched Jonathan with golden eyes. 

“You’ve made a mistake.” Jonathan stopped, closing his eyes tightly. “You never should have left them.” The soldier said as he stepped in front of Jonathan, the owl patch on his chest glinting in the light. 

“I shouldn't be able to see you. You aren't real. I’ve somehow created you...You aren't real.” Jonathan shook his head and kept going, pulling his hat lower around his ears. 

“I’ve been here before.” Evan said as he followed Jonathan, his footsteps making no noise and leaving no prints on the snow. “I-I know this place…” 

“You aren't real.” 

“Please forgive yourself, Jonathan.” He turned around to face the soldier but found that there was no one there. 

“What does that mea…” He trailed off and sighed, kicking himself for believing for a moment that the soldier was real.  His whole world had been thrown into oblivion, nothing making sense anymore and yet he still believed that a ghost of Evan was haunting him. Taking a deep breath, he continued on his way, keeping his head down against the wind. The owl followed him. 

Night fell and Jonathan struggled to lit a small fire. When it proved useless, he set up his tent and crawled into his sleeping bag, finding himself shivering in the cold. He knew he was a machine but he was too human. Outside his tent, the owl let out a call, letting him know it was there, it's large golden eyes watching the woods. 

In the morning, the owl was gone and Jonathan reluctantly packed up his camp, kicking snow over his failed attempt at a fire. He wanted to stay in his warm sleeping bag, knowing that he had nowhere to go and there was no rush to go nowhere but he packed up anyways and kept walking. He wished that the Vanoss-IV hadn't been broken but a part of him didn't want to hear Evan’s voice again; it hurt too much. 

As he climbed the steep hills and stumbled down them on the other side, he thought about his life, about who he thought he was. Did Luke know? Or did he trick him into believing he was real? At the thought of Luke, Jonathan had to stop, a new pain in his chest. He remembered screaming, the bridge crumbling under his feet and his hand reaching for Luke but it hadn’t been enough. It was never enough. What would Luke say if he saw him now?

I meant is that what if there was a consciousness in a machine?” Luke had said, his eyes full of wonder at the idea of the Vanoss-III. 

“That kind of technology is something we can't do yet. Besides, that would be wrong. It’s horrible, living a life in a machine.What kind of existence would that be?” Jonathan had said, more full of worry and fear than wonder. If only he had known how wrong he was. 

Stopping to catch his breath after a long climb, Jonathan leant against a large pine, looking up at the cloudy sky overhead. The soft sound of waves caught his attention, the smell of salt in the air. 

“I’ve been here before.” Jonathan looked up at the owl in the branches above him. He shot the large bird a glare and continued down the hill, the sound getting longer. The snow seemed to disappear the further down the hill he went, patches of frozen ground could be seen around the trunks of the towering trees. He pushed through the bushes and found himself on a rocky beach, patches of snow and ice dotting the dark rocks. There was something else among the rocks too, the rusty corpses of planes. Worn down by snow, the salt and the wind, it seemed like only the skeletons and the occasional warped pieces of metal. 

“Must be from the war…” Jonathan said aloud as he made his way towards one of the planes. He placed his hand on the cold metal, looking it over to see if there was anything else left behind. He set his pack down on the snow and pulled himself up into what had must been the pilot’s seat, balancing on the metal as he looked around. The control panel was destroyed beyond repair and the chair had been eaten away by bugs and the weather. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of a corner of the control panel, the corner of it warped and fluttering in the wind. Carefully, so he wouldn’t slip and fall through the beams to the snow below, he reached forward and pulled the paper out from the panel. It was a picture, so faded by time that he couldn’t see any details except for one corner that had been tucked farthest away. He froze, not sure what to make of what he was seeing but he could recognise that face anywhere; it was Brock. 

 

“Hello, Jonathan. I have a few questions for you. Please give me an honest answer for each one. White light had blinded him as he had opened his eyes, taking in the white room and the two men sitting across him. He nodded though he didn't want to. “Good. First, do you feel real?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you know what real is?” 

“Real is...Is...Blood.” Jonathan’s eyes widened. Memories of screams, gunshots, bodies falling to snow and the sickening colour of blood against the white snow came flooding back him. “Blood...Blood.” 

“We were so close.” One of the men said as he started to get up but the other stopped him. 

“What about blood, Jonathan?” The second man asked him. Jonathan looked down at the white table, but he was seeing blood, his throat aching as he screamed and reached for the soldier in front of him who didn’t even look at him, his dark eyes on his bloody hands. “Jonathan?” 

“Why didn’t I save him…?” 

“We need to remove more memories...I think we need to create a whole new personality.” The first man said with a sigh. 

“I think so too. This personality has been destroyed by whatever happened to the original out there.” 

“We took out his most recent memories, though!” 

“That’s not enough. We need to take out all of them. Let’s shut him off and start again.” 

 

Jonathan couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about the picture he had found. He had quickly scrambled out of the plane, tripping over a piece of the side that still had chipping blue paint and scrambled back towards the woods, his pack banging against his side. There was something bigger, something more than just machines. He was seeing a ghost of Evan but as a soldier, and now, sitting in his tent surrounded by the dim early morning glow, he was holding a picture of Brock that was over one hundred years old. He could make out two other people in the picture but they had been faded away over time, now just outlines; a part of the background. He couldn’t make any sense of it or come up with a single explanation as to how it was possible. 

As the sun rose higher in the sky, he decided that he couldn’t stay at this beach any longer. It scared him. He packed up as quickly as he could, forcing himself to eat one of the few snacks he had before heading back up into the woods, trekking up the steep hills, past the ruins of what must have been a town long ago in the valley below. 

Suddenly, he stepped out of the trees onto a road that twisted and curved up the hill, fresh tyre tracks cutting into the deep snow. Jonathan stopped, looking up the road and at the tracks, knowing where they came from. 

“You never should have left them.” The ghost had said. Jonathan started to walk in the opposite direction but he stopped again, something telling him to follow the tracks. He sighed and headed up the hill, deciding he’d only follow it for a little bit. If he saw them, he’d leave. He had made his choice. Besides, Evan wouldn’t want to see him. Jonathan’s chest hurt again as he remembered what Evan had said to him and angry they had all become, even Brock. A cold wind suddenly picked up, sending chills down Jonathan’s back. Snow began to fall around him, burying the tracks. Who would know that they had ever been there? 

In one final push, he made it to the top of the hill, moving away from the road and sat down on the slope, looking at the world around him. Mountains rose into the sky, reaching for the stars. Large eagles soared overhead, their feathers rippling in the wind as they coasted through the falling snow. In one direction, he could see the ocean, its waves capped white and cold. In the other was nothing but hills and in the distance was a river, sparkling in the light. He had never been so far from home but he also couldn’t help the feeling of deja vu. 

“Of course it’d be here…” Jonathan jumped, the soldier beside him staring out at the view. His uniform wasn’t bloody, his golden owl patch glittering in the sun. 

“You aren’t real.”  Jonathan snapped. He looked away from the soldier, watching the snow fall instead. 

“Then what does that make you?” Evan asked. Jonathan looked back at him, confused. 

“I’m...I’m a mach-” 

“N-Not q-quite.” Evan said sadly, blood blossoming from two wounds on his back. “Am I a ghost, Jonathan? O-Or am I-I just a memory?” 

Gunshots suddenly made Jonathan jump to his feet, looking down at the valley below. He could hear yelling and the sound of the truck. He watched it spin out of control and tip to its side, supplies crashing to the snow. He watched his friends scramble for shelter and weapons, finding that most of their things were crushed under the truck. Jonathan had to put his hands over his mouth to stop himself from crying out to them. He started to run down the hill, slipping and falling to the snow where he rolled a few times before coming to a stop in time to see the war machines, large ohm symbols painted on their shoulders. He could hear his friend’s yelling and the sound of bullets ricocheting off the metal as they got closer to them. Jonathan wanted to get up and run to them but he couldn’t. He could only watch as Brock suddenly went down violently, a spray of blood hitting the snow. He closed his eyes tightly, putting his arms over his head. He couldn’t bring himself to get up and he hated himself for it. 

“You never should have left them! You should never have left them! You should never have left them! You should never have left them!” There was more screaming and the soldier’s yelling in his ears, deafening him. And then there was nothing, just the sound of the war machines walking away through the snow. 

Jonathan opened his eyes, sitting up as he looked around. The machines were gone, leaving nothing but a tipped over truck, it’s front left wheel still spinning. Jonathan staggered to his feet, making his way down the rest of the hill towards the wreck. Then he heard it, a faint cry of pain. Little ways away from the truck, Brock lay on the snow, blood soaked his chest. 

“Brock!” Jonathan ran over to him, dropping his pack as he knelt down beside him. “Oh...God..” Jonathan pulled him into his arms, pressing his hand over the wound. “Brock! Please don’t go! I’m sorry! I should never have left you!” He cried, feeling tears stinging his eyes. Brock looked up at him, choking on blood. He gripped Jonathan’s arm tightly before his gaze went to something behind Jonathan, his eyes widening. 

“I...I…” 

“It’s okay…” 

“I-I...I’ve been...been here before.” Brock choked out, holding onto Jonathan tightly. He looked up at him again, a look of confusion spreading across his face as if he was expecting someone else to be there instead of him. “I’ve b-been here...before.” He managed to say again, his arm limply falling to his side. He didn’t say anything again. 

“Brock?” Jonathan shook him. Brock’s empty gaze on the grey sky above him. “Brock? Brock!” Jonathan screamed, shaking him again as if trying to wake him. “Don’t go…” He pressed his forehead to his shoulder, sobs violently shaking his shoulders. “I don’t want to feel this…” He cried, clinging tightly to him. “I’m sorry…” When he lifted his head again, it had stopped snowing and the world was getting dark. Jonathan didn’t want to leave Brock but he had no choice. He got up, picking up his pack and looked around for the others. Among the trees was the ruins of a train wreck, the cars now skeletons, rusting corpses just like the planes. He searched the truck but found no one. “T-Tyler? Lui? Evan? Craig? Where are you?” Jonathan called out into the dark woods. No one answered him. He sat down beside the truck, staring at Brock’s cold body as if he was the one who had killed him, regret hanging over him like a cloud. 

The sound of footsteps startled Jonathan, snapping him out of his grief-filled trance. “Who's there?” Jonathan called out. No one answered. Deciding it was just the ghost of the soldier again, Jonathan closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the truck. A hand suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s collar, throwing him to the cold ground. He panicked, trying to scramble away as he was suddenly kicked hard in the side, the force throwing him onto his back.

“Look what we got here.” Jonathan looked up at the two men, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“Please...I’m unarmed…” Jonathan trailed off. He had seen them before. 

“I told you, Anthony. We didn’t have to go looking for him. He’d come right to us.” Bryce said with a smile. 

“I’m not going back to that fucked up place.” Jonathan spat. He rolled and scrambled to his feet, breaking into a run for the woods only to be tackled back down to the snow. “Get off me!” Jonathan screamed as he struggled to get away, elbowing Anthony’s jaw as hard as he could. A sudden force came down on Jonathan’s head, leaving lying limp on the snow as the world blurred. 

“Can't let you get away.” The world began to fade to darkness, Anthony’s voice sounding farther away. “Ohm wants to see you.” 


	11. Chapter 11

“Hello, Jonathan. I have a few questions for you. Can you answer them?” Jonathan’s eyes flickered open. His cheek was pressed against a cold white table, his eyes focusing on a grey wall across from him. His head ached. Slowly, he sat up, his dizzy gaze landing on a man who sat across from him, an ohm symbol painted in black on the wall behind him. “This is where you say yes.” The man wore a grey suit that seemed to glint in the harsh white light. Everything about him screamed New Town. In front of him was a tablet but Jonathan couldn’t see what was on the screen under the harsh white light. 

“N-No...No...Where are my friends? What happened to them? Who are you?” Jonathan couldn’t stop the questions from spilling out, his fear and grief suddenly overwhelming him. “What have you done?” The man pressed a button on the tablet, watching Jonathan with curiosity as a wave of calm came over him, leaving him weak. 

“I have a few questions for you. Can you answer them?” The man asked again, cocking his head to the side with interest. 

“Yes.” Jonathan answered quietly. 

“Good. Do you feel real?” 

“I don't know…” 

“Why don’t you know? Do you know what real is?” The man asked, glancing down at the tablet for a moment before looking back up at him. Jonathan didn’t answer, his hands starting to shake again. He wanted to yell, and cry. This man who sat across from him was somehow responsible for all of this and yet he could do nothing but sit across from him in the cold white room and answer his questions. 

“I know what real is...but I don’t think that I fit the definition of real. I’ve never been real...Everything I remember isn’t real, just lies told to me to make me think that I’m human. I believed them all and now I don’t know who I am.” Jonathan explained, keeping his eyes down on the white table. 

“I know you are, Jonathan.” The man smiled and pressed a button on the tablet which made Jonathan feel completely exhausted. His eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep. 

 

“Hello, Jonathan. I have a few questions for you? Can you answer them?” Jonathan’s eyes flickered open. He was still sitting in the metal chair in the cold white room, the large black ohm symbol painted on the far wall. Across from him sat the same man who wore a grey suit that seemed to glint in the harsh white light. Jonathan nodded. He felt like he had lost a lot of time but he couldn’t remember why. Then he remembered pain and blood and Brock’s wide blank stare. 

“Y-You took my friends!” Jonathan suddenly yelled. “You killed Brock! Where are the others? What have you done?” 

“That’s enough.” The man said, pressing a button on the tablet. A wave of calm came over Jonathan, leaving him weak. “Can you answer my questions?” The man asked again and Jonathan nodded. “Do you know what your purpose is?” 

“No.” 

“You are meant to outlive human life, Jonathan. You are the foundation for immortality!” The man smiled as he spun the tablet in front of him to show him blueprints of a machine. Jonathan was impressed. Every detail was so intricate, right down to the smallest nerve. “You’re beautiful, Jonathan.” 

“I-Is this...me?” Jonathan looked up at him in shock. “What am I?” 

“You are the Delirious Project...What a beautiful project that was. Just look at you, Jonathan! You don’t look at all as old as you are.” He smiled brightly.

“Who are you?” Jonathan asked. “How do you know about me?” 

“I’m sad you don’t recognise me, Jonathan. I suppose that was intentional, though, the others leading the project didn’t like me after what I started but I wanted to look deeper into the mind! They made you forget me. I’m Ohm but you can call me Ryan.” He took the tablet back from Jonathan, letting out a sigh as he leant back in his chair. “I wanted to take you apart, Jonathan. I wanted to understand where your mind went and how you became a new person. I discovered that you had at one time experienced such painful grief but before I could go further, my colleagues caught me and threw me off the project. So I started the Vanoss Project. The Evan you know now walking around back in his own body is modelled off of you, Jonathan. You should be honoured.” 

“I’m not.” 

“That’s rude. A lot of work went into all the different forms of Evan.” Ryan scolded him. 

“Where is Evan now? I want to see him.” Jonathan Said quietly, looking past Ryan to the wall behind him where he knew there must be a door. Ryan glanced him at him with a curious look, cocking his head in interest. 

“He’s still upset with you.” 

“I know.” 

“But you still want to see him? That's very human of you, Jonathan. Almost like your old self.” Ryan smiled, looking back down at the tablet as he pressed a few buttons. “I’m glad to see that patch back where it belongs.” Jonathan glanced down at the owl patch on his shoulder, wondering what he meant. 

“I don't understand...I never had this patch befor-” 

“I’ll tell you later on, Jonathan. When I know you are reliable, then everything will make sense.” With a press of a button, exhaustion came over Jonathan, weighing him down as much as he tried to fight it. “Third time’s a charm…” 

 

“H-Hello...Jonathan. I have a few questions for you. C-Can you answer them?” Jonathan’s eyes flickered open. He was still sitting in the metal chair in the cold white room, the large black ohm symbol painted on the far wall. Nothing had changed except for who sat in front of him. Evan sat across from him, his red jacket replaced with a soldier’s uniform and a  golden owl patch on his shoulder. 

“Evan!” Jonathan started to get up which made Evan jump and quickly press a button on the tablet, a calm coming over Jonathan that forced him to sit back down. “Evan? What’s happening? A-Are you real?” 

“Yes. I’m real.” Evan said, clearly struggling to keep his voice steady. “Can you answer my questions?”  Jonathan could only nod. “Do you recognise me?” 

“Of course I do. You’re Evan.” 

“Do you recognise this uniform?” 

“I-I...I’ve seen it in a dream.” Jonathan found himself explaining. “I’ve seen you as a soldier...a dead soldier, in my dreams. I don’t know why. I even see this soldier when I’m awake sometimes too. I thought that before I found out that I was a machine that it was a ghost but now I know that such things aren’t real. Now I think it’s something that Ryan wants me to see.” Evan looked disturbed, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the tablet in his hands tightly. “Are you still upset with me?” 

“Do you feel real? Evan asked, completely ignoring Jonathan’s question. 

“Evan don’t do this to me. Please.” Jonathan begged. Evan glanced at one of the room’s corners, a look of concern flashing across his face.   “Evan!” Evan suddenly looked back at Jonathan, dropping the tablet onto the white table. 

“Shut up. If you keep talking to me like this, Ohm will kill you.” Evan said under his breath, glancing nervously at the corner of the room for a moment. “And everyone else. So act like a machine and answer the questions if you want to survive and get out of here eventually.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m already dead.” Evan picked the tablet back up, keeping his eyes on the screen. 

“You aren’t dead to me.” Jonathan whispered. Evan looked up at him with a sad look in his eyes for a moment before it disappeared and he returned to the questions. 

“Do you feel real?” 

“I don’t know. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.” Jonathan managed to say. Evan nodded slightly, his dark eyes drifting to the corner again. Jonathan knew he was in trouble now, and he prayed that Evan would be okay. He kept his face as blank as possible, not meeting Evan’s gaze. 

“What is real?” Evan asked. The room fell heavily silent for a few moments. Finally, Jonathan found the words. 

“Real; adjective. Already existing as a thing or occurring in fact. Real is being awake to the world around us, conscious and living.” 

 

“Good morning, Jonathan! We got a lot to do today!” Jonathan’s eyes flickered open, taking in the white ceiling above him. He laid on a soft bed, a warm blanket was thrown over him. Hanging over a chair was his jacket and on the chair was a blue suit, folded and waiting for him. He sat up, leaning against the wall to take in the room and Ryan who stood in the doorway, a smile on his face. “That’s for you! From your New Town days.” Ryan motioned to the blue suit. “Now come on! Get dressed and let's get to work.” 

“I won’t wear that. I won’t help you. I’m not letting New Town come back.” Jonathan snapped as he got to his feet. He reached for his jacket, the faded owl patch glinting in the dim light. Its large eyes stared up at Jonathan, watching him. Ryan sighed, reaching into his pocket for a small tablet. He pressed a few buttons, glancing up at Jonathan as he began to feel weak. 

“Get dressed. There is a lot to talk about.” Ryan snatched the jacket from Jonathan’s hand and stormed out of the room. Jonathan watched the door slowly swing shut, leaving him completely alone in the painfully white room. They had done so much to make sure that New Town could never exist again but it felt like they had failed. His friends were either dead or captured and he was useless, hacked and forced to comply. 

Reluctantly, Jonathan took off his dirty clothes, throwing them into a pile on the floor. They were bloody and covered in dirt and sweat but despite that, they were a part of what had made him feel so alive; so human. His cold hands curled around the soft fabric of the blue suit that he knew was meant to make him feel less and less alive and more like a machine. The suit had been his uniform, something he wore every day in a glittering world that had fractured so quickly after Luke’s death. He remembered riding their bikes together through the streets of New Town, the neon world flashing around them and the way they had laughed together as the wind whipped at their hair and pulled at their blue jackets. None of that had been real, at least not real in the way that Jonathan had wanted it to be. He pained him to think that maybe Luke knew that he wasn’t human but despite that, he had tried so hard to be his friend. It pained him, even more, to think of how he had tricked him too and he died not knowing the truth. 

Jonathan tried to push away the thought, quickly putting on the suit. He buttoned up the white shirt, tucking it into his blue pants and pulled the tie tightly around his throat, folding down the collar around the blue fabric. Finally, he pulled the blue jacket on, the smooth fabric settling over his shoulders and glimmered in the bright light. Taking one last moment alone, he pressed his hand to his shoulder where the patch would have been had Ryan not taken the jacket. He reached for the door and pulled it open, finding himself in a long white hallway. 

“Hello?” Jonathan called out, taking a step into the hallway. “Ryan?” He turned right, focusing on a door at the end of the hallway. Silence hung heavy over him. 

“Jonathan.” He turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of the soldier. Blood dripped from his gloved hands. “You must determine what is a lie and what isn’t. You decide what is real.” Evan said, taking a shaking step towards him. “He is not the truth.” 

“Jonathan!” Ryan called out. Jonathan turned back around, trying to keep his expression calm as he quickly headed down the hall, glancing over his shoulder to see nothing left of the soldier but a few drops of blood on the floor. “You look more like yourself.” He lead the way down the hall into a bright room where Anthony and Bryce sat around a white table, their cups of coffee steaming. “Morning!” Ryan smiled at them as they passed. Jonathan didn’t look at them as he passed, instead of looking at a man he hadn’t seen before. He was looking intently at the tablet in his hand as he leant against the counter, only looking up when Ryan and Jonathan passed. “That’s Four Zero Seven. He doesn’t like his first name.” Ryan said to Jonathan when he followed his gaze to him. “He’s just like you and Evan. Once a human...now better as a machine.” 

“Was he a part of the Vanoss project?” Jonathan asked as they left the room and continued on into a darker hallway. 

“No. I created him from another leftover consciousness that had been taken in the first steps of the Vanoss Project, before Evan and all of them. He would have just been left sitting there in non-existence if I didn’t give him new life. You can’t argue against that, can you?” Ryan asked as he pushed open a door into a dimly lit room. 

“No.” Jonathan said quietly, shaking his head. 

“Now, first things first...I have to show you who you really are, Jonathan. That’s the only way to show you that you are real. That you aren’t just a machine. I need you to feel as human as possible because New Town is human and it’s alive! We will bring it back together, gears and organs, wires and flesh! We can mend your mistakes and make the world new and bright once more. That’s what happened to you.” Ryan turned on the light switch, revealing to Jonathan that he stood in a large white office, similar to the one his father had. “Have a seat.” Ryan said as he sat down at the desk, spinning around in his chair to search through the filing cabinets behind him. “Your story is an old one, Jonathan. It goes right back to the start of New Town after the war.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Have you ever heard of the Delirious project, Jonathan?” Ryan spun around in his chair, dropping a large file onto his desk. Remembering what Smitty had said, Jonathan could only nod, not wanting to lie to Ryan. “Really? What do you know?” 

“That it started almost ninety years ago. Its goal was to create a machine that was human in every way except that it could outlive human life.” Jonathan explained. 

“In a way. About a hundred years ago, during a world war, there was a day that simply ended the reality that people knew then. They called this day ‘Drop day’ because nuclear bombs were dropped on several different places, plunging the world into the next ice age. Most people didn’t survive long, military or otherwise. Out this came a group of people called the Revolters. They banded together and started to create a new society. A few years later, the beginnings of New Town was created. What you had once Old Town was this New Town and as this society advanced, well you know what happened. Anyways, people began to wonder if there was still people out there in the cold. So they sent a group of people to go look.” 

“And they found no one. I know the story.” Jonathan sighed. 

“No, you don’t. That’s just what they told you.” Ryan smiled. “For days, they travelled into the Wasteland, searching for people. They found a few,  all of them in pairs or groups. Some wanted to go with them, some didn’t. Finally, just when they were about to return to New Town, they stumbled upon the wreckage of a train.” Ryan opened the folder, pulling out a picture. Jonathan had seen this before. It was where Brock had died but the cars weren’t as rusty nor as buried by snow and in the middle of the clearing was what looked like a burned funeral pyre. “There was one survivor. Completely alone because everyone in his group had died. When asked to come back with them, he was very reluctant at first. He knew which group they belonged to and he said that they were responsible for the death of his friends. Finally, though, he agreed to come back with them.” 

“He was forced to, wasn’t he?” 

“That’s unknown. When he was brought back to New Town, they struggled to get him back to health and the current engineers at the time took interest in him. They were experimenting with creating AIs at the time which had been an interest before Drop day but now it had a completely new meaning. They wanted to create something that would live on, that would be stronger than humans. In this man’s last few days of life a couple years later, he agreed to let them scan his consciousness and use it for future projects. They decided to try instead of creating a personality, just inserting it into the machine. They decided to take away a few years worth of memories so they could have a smooth transition but when this machine woke up, all he did was scream and cry over someone he had lost. It seems like they had taken away the memories of moving on from the trauma and left him right at the very moment that this grief came from. He kept saying ‘why didn’t they save him? Evan! Evan! Evan!’” Ryan suddenly yelled. Jonathan felt sick. 

“It’s just a coincidence…” 

“Was it? They did some research. Among the Peacekeepers was a young private, barely nineteen, named Evan Fong. He disappeared after his camp was attacked shortly after Drop Day and was presumed dead. His body was never found but this man seemed to know what happened but he wouldn’t say. They decided that in order to make this project work, they would have to wipe almost all memories and just leave the personality. It was at this time that they aptly named this project the ‘Delirious Project’, after the man’s nickname.” Ryan pulled out another picture. It was a plane with the word ‘Delirious’ painted on the side in bright blue. In the background was another plane, the face of a growling white tiger looking up at the viewer. Looking closer, Jonathan could see a figure by that plane, though only his profile was moving. Jonathan could have sworn that he looked a lot like Tyler. “They kept this project going for years, studying the habits of this machine. They convinced this machine that he was alive, updating his parts and systems to make it seem like he was growing and then they would ‘kill’ him and start over. That's mostly what I did, in case you were wondering. The only thing kept the same, though was the name; Jonathan.” 

“I-I’m the Delirious Project...I was a soldier…” 

“A pilot actually but yes. When you shot your ‘father’ in the face I thought you had remembered everything, it was such a human thing for you to do.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Jonathan cried. 

“To show you that you are more human than you think you are.” He pulled out one last picture of a young man in uniform. Jonathan stared down at himself, his hands starting to shake. Barely visible under his lapel was the gold thread of patch in the shape of an owl.  he looked back up, he almost jumped out of his chair. The bloody soldier stared down at him, his dark eyes full of tears. 

“J-Jonathan…” Evan stammered. 

“The only thing about all of this that baffles me is Evan. How he has somehow returned to life as well. Maybe someone else created him, basing his personality off a long dead soldier too.” Ryan wondered aloud. “That’s why I like having him around. You too. Living history.” 

“J-Jonathan…” The ghost said again, reaching towards him. Suddenly the office vanished, leaving Jonathan standing on a snowy river bank. In his hand was a gun, the end of it dripping blood and bits of flesh. Around him were bodies. “J-Jonathan…” He turned, his eyes landing on the Peacekeeper who lay on the snow, blood dripping from his gloved hands. “Y-You decide what is real…” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you want to say that none of this is true. Anyone who is having an existential crisis would not want to believe it. But it’s all true. Jonathan Smith was a pilot in the war who survived Drop Day and allowed his consciousness to be scanned and now here we are. That Jonathan went through hell and you are a completely different version of Jonathan, one who can’t remember what happened. You are a better version because of that!” Ryan smiled brightly, bringing Jonathan back to the present. “You must remember though that New Town created you. It would be wrong for you to want to destroy your creators.” 

“I already destroyed them.” Jonathan snarled.

“No. You missed me.”  Ryan leant forward, his eyes narrowing on Jonathan. “Now, you can help me in one of two ways. You can help me take down the order that you and your stupid friends have created. Or you can be my new experiment. Your choice.” 

“I’ve been your experiment for too long. I wo-” 

“Take some time to think about it.” Ryan leaned back in his chair. “You could have control for once in your life, Jonathan.” 

“I won’t help you destroy what we have fought for. I won’t let you do it.” Jonathan shook his head. Ryan sighed. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Jonathan. You were chosen to live on because of your strength and you are just letting it all go to waste.” Ryan said as he turned the tablet in front of him on, shaking his head. “At least I can still find a use for you. Your mind is really what I’m interested in. However, I’m willing to give you a chance to rethink your decision.” He pressed a few buttons on the tablet, suddenly freezing Jonathan. He couldn’t move a single muscle. He could only stare at the pictures that Ryan had shown him on the table. “Just sit there for a little while, Jonathan. Think about how you got here and where you want to go from here.” Ryan said as he got up and headed for the door, leaving the open folder of photos and documents on the table. Photos of Jonathan, a living version of him and another of Evan tucked under a few files stared up at him. The Peacekeeper in the photo was the exact same one that Jonathan saw in his dreams but there was a sparkle in this soldier’s eyes. He hadn’t been to hell yet; he hadn’t become a ghost yet. “Keep in mind Jonathan, that you can choose where you want to go from here. Is it back to New Town where we rightfully belong?” Ryan called out as the door started to close behind him. “Or is it to your own personal hell? 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for the support! I love reading your comments and theories as well as seeing all the support that Drop has gotten after the last chapter as well! I'll probably be going back and making a few edits to Drop, fixing it up a little bit. Anyways, thank you all so much for the support! Enjoy the chapter!!

A red flare exploded into the sky in a burst of red sparks and smoke. A scream echoed through snow covered woods. Cold snow had dripped down his neck. Campfire smoke had drifted up towards the grey sky, the smell of it lingering on his clothes. The metallic taste of blood had made him feel sick. Planes fell from the sky and boats sank. Guns had fired and bombs had dropped. Every sense was a fragment, a memory flashing his mind that he couldn't grasp before it slipped away again. They were the broken pieces of a mirror that wouldn't let him see his full reflection. 

All of these different pieces of a brutal, bloody puzzle lay in front of Jonathan, the eyes of the past staring up at him. He could do nothing but stare back. The portrait of the two soldiers in front of him made no sense to him. He was supposed to be one of them but all of those memories had been stripped away, leaving him a new person. The other soldier was a mystery. Jonathan wanted to shake his head. Ryan was just trying to mess with his head even more. He could accept what had happened to him but not what happened to Evan. There was no such thing. 

“N-No such thing…” The soldier laughed as he stepped out from behind Jonathan. He felt blood drip onto his shoulder, staining the blue fabric like wine. “N-No s-such thing.” He said again as he reached for his picture, a small smile appearing on the ghost’s face. Jonathan watched him as he stared at the picture, tears welling up in his eyes. “I-I m-miss s-summer. I’m a-always c-cold.” He set the picture back down and met Jonathan’s sad gaze. “T-This w-world needs y-you.” Jonathan wanted to shake his head. No one needed him. Even his Evan didn't want to see him anymore. 

The soldier sat down across from him, the gold owl on his lapel glinting in the light. He let out a sigh as he lowered his gaze to the papers on the table, pushing a few aside to look at them. “I-I though no o-one n-needed me too...I-I was always pushed around...B-But you.” Evan smiled. “Y-You n-never did.” He reached into his pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a picture. Jonathan, Evan and Brock smiled up at him. “W-When the w-war came...I-I didn't have to join...I-I c-could have g-gone to s-school...B-But I joined...F-For you. A-And it k-killed me. T-The very people w-who created y-you, t-this you...shot me. I-In the back. D-Don't l-listen to R-Ryan. T-This world n-needs you.” 

 

Jonathan had spent hours in that chair, staring at the folder but was unable to move. He couldn't move, couldn't get away. All he could do was listen to the ghost of a murdered soldier mourn the loss of everything he held close. When Ryan finally returned, Jonathan didn't say a word to him. He let him guide him back to the room he had woken up in. 

“For you. If you want to read them.” Ryan had stopped before he closed the door, holding the folder out to him. 

“Aren't you worried I’ll remember everything?” 

“Humans can't be controlled...But machines can be. Remember what you are.” Ryan had said as he handed him the folder and left the room. 

Now, Jonathan sat on the bed, surrounded by documents and pieces of the past. There was a military document with Evan’s name, telling Jonathan that he had only been eighteen when he enlisted, just out of high school. There was a photo of Jonathan with his regiment, the group of pilots looking lively and excited. There was a face among that group that Jonathan recognised. It was Tyler. 

“H-How…” Jonathan whispered, his hands shaking as he stared down at the picture. He didn't know what to make of it. He wanted to be scared, wanted to disbelieve that that young man looked exactly like Tyler. “He's messing with me...I decide what is real.” Jonathan said, putting the photo under some papers. “I decide…” He leant against the cold white wall, letting out a sigh. “He’s just trying to get in my head...That’s all. That’s it. I am a machine, but this story isn’t real. There’s no possible way that anyone like that could have survived in the Wasteland like that for so long. There is no way that Evan was a soldier then...and was alive now. It’s not real.” Jonathan shook his head, his eyes closing tightly to fight back tears. “Stop crying...I shouldn’t be able to...I can’t feel like this.” He wiped his eyes with his blue sleeve, looking down at the papers in front of him. His eyes drifted to a pile of crumpled papers partially hidden under Evan’s military document. He reached for them, holding the delicate water-damaged papers carefully. “Dear Jonathan. Sorry for taking so long to write back. Wish we still had internet, you’d be one skype call away...I hope you are doing okay. I’ve seen so many soldiers come into the camp recently so the fighting must be getting pretty bad. A lot of them are hurt bad and we’re doing the best we can. When this war is over, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at blood the same, in a video game or real life. It makes me sick seeing what people can do to each other…” Jonathan’s voice broke as he read the letter, his fingers pressing against the splatters of blood on the paper. Evan had never wrote to him; only Tyler. This letter in his hand was mean to get in his head, make him think for a moment that it real. “Fuck you!” Jonathan suddenly yelled, throwing the folders off his bed to the floor around him. “Fuck you, Ryan! Get out of my head!” Jonathan screamed, throwing the documents at the door. “It’s not real! Nothing is real” Jonathan screamed, ripping one of Evan’s document. “You put those dreams in my head! You want me to believe this but I won’t! Go to hell!” Jonathan yelled at the empty white room. “Get out of my head!” 

 

   “Jonathan! Jonathan!” Ryan’s voice sang. The door opened onto the white room, the light spilling into the room. Torn paper was thrown all over the floor, ripped and thrown in a rage. Ryan looked down at the ripped documents then looked up at Jonathan was curled up in a ball on his white bed, his back to him. Jonathan didn’t move when he heard Ryan’s voice and his footsteps coming into the room. “Looks like someone had a temper tantrum.” He sighed, kicking aside some of the pieces of paper to side down beside him on the bed. “Look, I know you are mad. So much has happened, you can’t handle it right now and I understand that. However, I can’t keep you around if you are going to be violent like this. I will not let you destroy my project. So are you going to calm down and cooperate?”  

   “Go to hell.” Jonathan said into his pillow, his words muffled.     

   “What was that?” 

   “Go to hell.” Jonathan snapped as he sat up and shoved Ryan off the bed. His eyes were wide and red from tears. Jonathan suddenly jumped over Ryan and ran towards the door, stumbling into the hallway. The bright lights blinded him as he ran, glancing nervously over his shoulder before he reached the far door, pushing it open onto a darker, grey hallway. The ohm symbols painted in black on the walls dared him to keep running. He accepted their challenge and sprinted down the hall, his socks making him slip on the polished floor. 

“Jonathan!” A voice suddenly called out, stopping him. Through a small window in one of the doors, a hand reached towards him. The memory of his dream that had felt so long ago of Evan in a cell just like this in New Town flashed through his mind. “Jonathan!” He grabbed the hand and peered through the window, meeting Tyler’s wide-eyed stare. “Y-You have to get us out of here!” 

“What happened to you?” 

“T-They attacked us and I can't remember what happened except waking up in here! That Ohm guy...He’s trying to mess with us. He's saying that our lives aren't our first? What does that mean, Jonathan? And he's going to scan our brains like they did to Evan! He’s going to kill his, Jon! You have to get us out of here!” 

“He’s hacked me...He knows everything I do and he can make me stop, just shut me off! I don't know what to do!” Jonathan cried, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Then you have to do something he won't expect you to do. Be human.” Tyler gripped Jonathan’s hand tightly. “You haven't changed. Nothing has changed about you except now you know you are a machine. But nothing else is different from when you didn't know.”

“There you are! Oh, you found a friend too!” Ryan called from down the hallway. Jonathan’s eyes widened, panic coming over him. He moved away from the door only to be pulled back by Tyler. 

“Be human.” Tyler shoved him away, retreating into the back corner of his cell as Jonathan faced Ryan. He wasn't sure of what exactly Tyler meant. His whole concept of what it meant to be alive had flipped on its head and nothing made sense to him anymore the way it used to. 

“You can't leave, Jon!” Ryan said as he turned the corner, his grey suit seeming to blend into the walls around him. “Even if you tried.” He held up a tablet, pressing a few buttons. Jonathan felt exhaustion crash over him, his knees going weak. 

“No...No… You don't control me…” Jonathan stuttered, falling against the wall. “I won't… let you.” 

“Jon!” Tyler called out as Jonathan collapsed to the floor, unable to stop himself from closing his eyes. 

“You’re tired, Jonathan. You aren’t thinking. Just sleep and everything will be fine.” Ryan said as he came to a stop in front of Jonathan. With the press of one more button, Jonathan fell into a deep sleep. 

 

“One...Two...Three…” 

The makeshift camp that had replaced New Town burned. Cabin windows spewed flames that reached into the sky the same way that the skyscrapers seemed to reach for the stars. Jonathan shivered, the wind pulling at his blue suit jacket as he made his way through the burning camp, unable to do anything about it. 

“Four...Five...Six…” A war machine stomped through the melting snow past him, firing at a group of people running from the machine. A few fell to the snow with sprays of blood. 

“Stop!” Jonathan yelled at the machine. It didn’t hear him. 

“Seven...Eight...Nine…” 

“You have to save them.” Evan said from where he stood by a burning cabin. It had been Jonathan's. The curtains billowed and burned, the bunk beds left a burning pile of wood. 

“Evan...I can’t...He controls me!” 

“Everyone will die!” Evan yelled, the fire suddenly surging behind him. “New Town will return! Is that what you want?” 

“No!” 

“Be human!” Evan yelled. Blood dripped down his face from a wound on his forehead. “You were human once. No one can control that! If you can’t be, then we’re all going to die!” 

“You’re already dead! And so am I!” Jonathan yelled back. “I’m sick of you, Evan! Get out of my head”

“You didn’t listen to me! You should have stayed! This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed and fought from home!” Evan yelled back. “I’m here to help you!” 

“You aren’t helping me! You’re torturing me!” Jonathan screamed. He suddenly ran at Evan, tackling him to the snow where he hit him hard. Evan rolled to his side, throwing Jonathan off. 

“I...I am here...to help you…” 

“No, you aren’t! I can’t dream! You are sent by Ryan, meant to torture me! Get out of my head!” Jonathan yelled, trying to grab Evan and hit him again. He managed to get away, crawling away from Jonathan on the wet snow. “Get out!” 

“I-I...I-I’m…” There was now a soldier in front of him, grabbing at the snow in an attempt to get away from his attacker. Jonathan felt sick, disgusted by what he had done. “I’m here...to h-help y-you…T-This w-world needs y-you.” Around them, the world burned. 

 

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered open. He sat at a white table in a white room, an ohm symbol painted in black on the far wall. Ryan sat in front of him, his expression eerily calm. 

“So we’ve had our differences, I understand. I should never have expected you to cooperate right off the bat.” Ryan sighed when he saw that Jonathan was awake. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“Get out of my head.” Jonathan snarled. 

“What do you mean by that, Jon? You are a machine. You don’t have a consciousness so how can I be messing with you? Everything you are thinking, you have been programmed to do. My only problem is figuring out how to work with that programming.” Ryan explained. 

“You make me dream about messed up fucking shit. You put that soldier, that dead version of Evan in my head and you used that to make me come out here. There was never a soldier like Evan. You just made that up so you could make me come out here. You know how my programming works. Everything you have told me is a lie! A complete lie! And now you are trying to get that same lie into my friend’s heads! Fuck you!” Jonathan yelled. He had never felt so angry before. He wanted to lunge across the table and strangle the man across from him but he found that he couldn’t move. “Go to hell!” 

“We’re already there.” Ryan said quietly, looking down at the tablet. He seemed to scroll through something but Jonathan found that he could now move. “We have to start over, Jon. You’re too violent to want to cooperate, I see that now. I can’t make you my experiment and I can’t get you to work with me. So we will just have to find another way to make this work...To subdue yo-” Jonathan pressed his hands onto the table and pushed himself across it, lunging for Ryan. He grabbed his throat, throwing him down to the hard cement floor. 

“You don’t control me.” Jonathan snarled, his grip tightening on Ryan’s throat as he struggled and kicked at Jonathan, trying to push the machine off but he wouldn’t let go. Ryan slowly went limp, his empty gaze on the ceiling above him. Jonathan stared at him, unsure if it had really worked for a few moments. He decided that he didn’t care and quickly got up, pulling open the door below the ohm symbol and staggered into the darkened hallway. 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” He turned, looking over his shoulder to see the other machine, Four Zero Seven. Jonathan sprinted down the hallway towards the far door, only to find it locked. Four Zero was suddenly there, throwing a strong punch at his jaw. Jonathan ducked and tackled him to the floor, the two machines trying desperately to pin the other down. Four Zero managed to roll on top of him, hitting Jonathan hard enough to daze him, the world spinning around him for a moment. Suddenly, the other machine was pulled off him, a figure in red suddenly kicking the other. 

“Come on.” Evan pulled Jonathan to his feet, reaching for the now open door. Jonathan nodded, staring at Evan with wide eyes. Why would he want to help him after what he had done and said to him? His dream came back to him with a heavy wave of regret. “Come on!” Evan repeated when Jonathan didn’t move. He pulled him through the door as they ran down the next hallway. 

“What about the others?” Jonathan cried. 

“What?” Evan seemed confused, as if not understanding what he meant.

“What do you mean, what?” Jonathan stopped, forcing Evan to stop with him. “Tyler, Lui and Craig! We have to get them out too!” 

“I can’t.” Evan started down the hall, only stopping again when Jonathan roughly grabbed his arm. 

“You can’t?” 

“I’m not supposed to...to do that.” He said quietly. Jonathan’s eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. 

“Oh...Fuck no…” Jonathan whispered. Ryan had planned this and Evan was just another piece in his game. 

“Jon?” Evan’s eyes watered as he looked down the hallway. “I’m sorry...You have to run. Don’t stop running! Please!” 

“Come with me.” Jonathan said, gripping Evan’s arm tighter. “We can make it.” Evan nodded and they broke into a run towards the large double doors at the end of the hallway. They burst through them into what looked like a lobby. On the other side of the large room was a large metal door, a cold draft from the outside world slipping underneath. 

They ran towards the door, Evan reaching it first. His hand curled around the cold metal handle, his arm starting to pull it open. A gunshot rang through the room, the sound deafening Jonathan. Evan’s eyes went wide, meeting Jonathan’s as he reached around to touch his back. His hand came away bloody, his own blood dripping to the snow white floor. “Evan!” Jonathan screamed as another gunshot echoed through the room. Evan’s eyes closed tightly as he fell to the floor, his hand slipping from the handle. “Evan!” Jonathan fell to his knees beside him, pulling him into his arms. Blood soaked his red jacket from two wounds on his back. “Evan no…” Jonathan cried, pressing his face against Evan’s black hair. Footsteps echoed through the room. He looked up at Ryan whose face was blank but there was a glint of victory in his eyes. Jonathan’s grip tightened on Evan as if to protect him. 

“I told you, Jonathan. You can’t leave this place.” Ryan sighed, shaking his head. He looked down at the puddle of blood on the floor, and Evan’s body in Jonathan’s arms with a look of disappointment and disgust. “Fix him.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

“I-It’s so c-cold…”

“One...Two...Three…”

“W-When did it get so cold, Jonathan?” Lui stood in the snow, staring at Jonathan with wide eyes as his lips slowly began to turn blues “When d-did it get so cold?” Lui held his hands, shakily reaching for his gloves. He didn't look like a soldier; a ghost. He pulled his gloves off and dropped them to snow. His fingertips were black. “W-Why is it so cold?”

“I don't know, Lui.” Jonathan whispered.

“O-Oh...God…” Lui collapsed to the snow before Jonathan could catch him, his eyes drifting closer as if falling into a warm and deep slumber. Jonathan stared at his friend, trying to understand what he was seeing. Lui had never appeared in his dreams before.

“Four...Five...Six...Why am I counting?” Jonathan suddenly asked. “To sleep. To sleep...Count to sleep. No...I must be awake.”

“Why stay awake...When you can sleep?” Jonathan turned, his gaze landing on Evan who leant against a tree, a black dagger dangling from his hand. “Sleep...Sleep takes away all the pain. In sleep, you don't have to fight your demons…”

“But we all have demons…” Turning back around, Jonathan had to cover his mouth with his hands, fearing he’d be sick. Tyler stood over Lui’s body, his uniform covered in blood that oozed from countless bullet wounds. There was no owl patch hidden under his lapel. “You can't run from them, Jonathan. You can't hide.”

“Stop it...Stop it!” Jonathan yelled, turning away from them and ran through the woods, his tears stinging in the cold wind.  His foot caught on a piece of metal sticking through the snow and he crashed to the cold snow. A pair of blue shoes stopped beside him. Jonathan looked up at himself,  seeing the blood stained on his blue hoodie. He knelt down in front of him, his eyes glitching widely like a broken screen.

“Don't forget who the monster is...This time it isn't you.”

 

Jonathan’s eyes snapped open as he sat up, gasping for air. A wave of sickness came over him as he looked down at the horror in front of him, forcing him to get off his chair as fast as he could and retreat to the far side of the room, trying to breathe.

“Fuck…” Jonathan let out a small cry, his wide tear filled eyes on the bloody machine in front of him. “Fuck…” Evan lay on the table, his empty eyes staring up at the white ceiling. Jonathan was supposed to fix him but he had no idea where to start. He had dealt with machines before but never with machines that inhabited a human corpse. Jonathan took a deep breath, taking a few shaking steps towards the cold white metal table. “Evan…?” Jonathan whispered as he sat down, reaching for the tablet across the table from him. “Evan? Can you hear me?” There was no answer. Jonathan’s hands shook as he stared down at blueprint on the tablet for Evan. He had to admit that Ryan’s work was impressive. The nervous system was half nerves, half wires and gears kept his limbs moving but his heart still pumped. Ryan must have left his heart on purpose, to fool him and the others into thinking he had come back to life. “What makes you human...what makes me human? Or any of us?” Jonathan wondered aloud. “What is the difference? Or is there even one at all?” He shook his head, setting the tablet back down. He couldn’t leave this room until Evan was back up and running, the thought leaving him overwhelmed. “What is the difference?” Jonathan said again as he set the tablet down, slumping back in his chair. “What’s the difference between life and death when you have died so many times that it means nothing now because you just come back?”

The door behind him suddenly opened, making him jump as he turned to see Bryce standing in the doorway. “What is it?” Jonathan asked.

“I wouldn’t be talking like that to me if I were you...Besides, I’m here to help you.” Bryce said as he walked around the table to the other side of the metal table. “I helped Ohm build this one. I figured that I should at least give you some pointers.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to go back to New Town.” Bryce suddenly said, leaning against the table as if a heavy weight bore down his shoulders. “But all of us are programmable...and if Ohm succeeds, we’re all going back to New Town. It doesn’t matter what we want. If he says we go, we go.”

“Why should I listen to you? You killed Brock.”

“No…” Bryce shook his head sadly. “He did.” He pointed to Evan.

“No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.” Jonathan cried, his hands curling into fists.

“Ryan told him to do it, to weaken your group. So he did. He was told to throw me off you and get you to the front door only to be shot so Ryan could make you feel weak and end up being more submissive. He was told to throw himself in front of your truck and he was told to tell you that someone among your group is a machine. Evan isn’t really himself anymore. Sure, fragments of his old memories and personality still exist, but this is a copy of a copy and made more mechanical than your Evan ever was.” Bryce explained. “If there was another way, I would tell you to rip out the consciousness chip in his skull and smash it but we, unfortunately, need him if you want to get out of here.”

“He’s not...he didn’t kill Brock...Evan is still Evan!” Jonathan couldn’t meet Bryce’s calm gaze, his hands curling into tight fists. “Still Evan...H-H..He...He’s...H-He’s…”

“This is what happens when you question your existence, Jonathan.” Bryce sighed and reached for the tablet. He pressed a few buttons, creating a calm that came over Jonathan but it didn’t leave him weak. However, for a few moments, he stayed silent, his gaze on the body in front of him.

“Am I more sentient than Evan?” Jonathan finally asked, his voice trembling as if he couldn’t bare to even think those words. To his horror, Bryce nodded.  

 

   “E-Evan? Evan, can you hear me?” Jonathan watched Evan’s dark eyes flicker open, taking in the white room around him. His eyes moved to Jonathan, a smile spreading on his lips as he sat up. Nothing was left of the wounds save for dried blood on his red jacket. It had taken a long time to repair him, but with Bryce’s help, he was able to make a few changes.

   “Jonathan...Oh, thank god you are okay.” Evan suddenly hugged Jonathan tightly, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Jonathan pressed his head against Evan’s chest, wishing that Bryce hadn’t told him about Evan. He had wanted to be able to hold Evan like this for so long but now it was wrong knowing that this Evan didn’t care; that he couldn’t care. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to get out so bad but…”

   “I know, Evan.” Jonathan said quietly, moving away from the hug. He looked up at Evan, seeing his confused expression. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Jonathan said with a reassuring smile as he stood up. A message from Ryan flashed on the tablet.

   “Ryan wants to see us.” Evan said, his voice suddenly calm and empty. Every word that Evan said sounded empty to him now.

   “Right…” Jonathan sighed, turning towards the door that he could finally walk out.

   “Jonathan? Is something wrong?” Evan asked. Jonathan’s hands curled into fists as he turned to face him, shaking his head.

   “Nothing...Nothing’s wrong.” Jonathan said with a smile before he reached for the handle, pulling the door open. They stepped into the white hallway, Jonathan’s blue suit glinting in the bright light. Evan watched him as they walked quietly down the hallway, the only sound being their footsteps on the polished floor.

   “Let me go! Stop!” A  voice suddenly screamed. “Stop! Stop!” Jonathan ran down the hall, closely followed by Evan. They turned the corner in time to see Craig struggling against Four Zero and another man. “Stop! No! No!” Craig screamed as they dragged him into one of the rooms. Jonathan ran after them, coming to a stop in front of the door. They were in the middle of struggling to get Craig strapped down into a chair similar to that that had stolen Evan’s consciousness and killed him, as the door closed on his face.

   “What are they going to do to him?” Jonathan cried as he turned to face Evan who stammered, unsure of what to say. Jonathan suddenly grabbed Evan’s collar, slamming him against the wall. “What are they going to do to him? I know you know!”

   “C-Consciousness…” Evan gasped out in pain. “T-They are scanning his consciousness…”

“Why?” Jonathan tightened his grip, choking the air out of the machine. Anger crashed over him, making him want to do more than choke him. “Why?”

“I don't...Don’t k-know!”

“Yes, you do!” Evan shoved Jonathan off with sudden inhuman strength, sending him sprawling to the white floor.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Evan yelled. “I’m not the monster here!”

“Brock would say something different.” Jonathan spat as he sat up. Evan took a step back from him, a hurt look spreading across his face.

“Jonathan...I had n-”

“No choice? Fuck you.” Jonathan snarled, leaning against the wall as he got to his feet.

“Ryan pulled the trigger, Jonathan.” Evan cried, his hands curling tightly into fists. “I wanted none of this! If it were up to me, none of this would have happened.”

“But it did...and now your hands have Brock’s blood on them.”

“It wasn’t me.” Evan said quietly, tears welling up in his eyes. “I thought you of all people would understand…” Evan turned away from Jonathan, hurrying down the hall as fast as he could. Jonathan watched him go, a feeling of regret replacing his rage. Jonathan leant back against the wall, listening to Craig’s muffled screams as tears spilled from his eyes.

 

“I’ve been here before…”

“One...Two...Three…” Gunshots echoed through the cold air. Brock fell to the snow, his hands reaching for the wound on his chest. As he landed at his feet, Jonathan looked up at Evan who held the gun tightly in his hand, his face contorted into one of pain and anger. Tyler stood beside Evan, his eyes wide with shock and confusion as he opened his mouth to yell at him. Bullets flew past Jonathan, sparking off the truck which Tyler ducked behind with the others. Evan lowered the gun slowly, meeting Jonathan’s gaze.

“Four...Five...Six…”

“I didn't pull the trigger…” Evan said quietly. Jonathan shook his head. He lowered his gaze, looking down at Brock. Flowers grew out of the wound in his chest and bloomed in bright, bloody colours.

 

“There you are.” Jonathan’s eyes flickered open, focusing on Ryan who stood over him. He now sat against the white wall, not realising that he must have fallen asleep. He didn't realise how exhausted in every way he was till he tried to get back up. Ryan pulled him up, holding his arm as they walked down the hallway. “I'm afraid that I didn't tell you the whole story, Jonathan. You need the whole truth.” He said with a sigh.

“You’ve told me nothing but lies.” Jonathan wanted to be angry but he felt too tired to be able to.

“You’ve been through a lot, I know. It’s a lot to process but I know your mechanics can handle it.” Ryan smiled. Jonathan shook his head, trying to pull his arm away from him. They continued down the hall, towards the white room that Jonathan kept waking up in. As he stepped inside, he noticed a new pile of folders on the table. “Have you ever heard of the Calibre project? Or what about the Wildcat project?”

“No...What are you talking about?” Jonathan asked. Ryan didn't answer, only motioned for him to sit down. He pulled out the metal chair and sat down, staring up at Ryan with wide eyes. “You are a machine, yes. The Delirious Project. You know that. However, none of this real.”

“W-What…?” Jonathan felt sick.

“This is a simulation designed to test you. I’ve been watching you this whole time, ever since you woke up one morning in New Town with your head full of memories as a New Towner kid. All of your friends are consciousness scanned around the time you were. Now that the simulation is complete, we can move on to the next steps of your development.” Ryan smiled brightly.

“Everything...is a lie…”

“Yes and no. Your friends were real people at one point.” Ryan said, reaching for the folders. He pushed the pile towards Jonathan who couldn't move, couldn't think. “These will tell you all about it.”

“A lie…” Memories flashed through Jonathan’s mind of Luke when they would play video games together before his death. He remembered how painful it had been to move on and how his new friends welcomed him in. He remembered his long midnight talks with the Vanoss-III and how one voice seemed to make it all better. He remembered how he had carried Tyler out of that burning tower, both covered in blood but full of the feeling of victory. He remembered, though it had been a drugged haze, how they had danced in La La Land and how he had held Brock as he died in his arms.

“I’ll give you some time to process it. Don't lose your mind over it. Another day and it’ll be done.” Ryan smiled as he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Jonathan heard the click of the lock. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared down at the pile of folders in front of him.

“None of it...is real…”


	14. Chapter 14

“Why are you scared to fall asleep? Why do you count yourself to sleep as if counting down to the end of the world? Do you know? No, you never wondered why you counted sheep. None of this real. It’s you powering down, counting till you slip into a moment of non-existence. If you think you are dreaming, you’re just seeing what is on the other side.” 

“I am sentient. I am real. This world is real. I am not counting to non-existence because I exist. I am more real than I have ever been.”

“None of this is real.” 

“Liar...You are a liar.”

“If I am a liar, then you are too.” The white room was cold. Jonathan sat at the white table, files of his friends, of other stolen consciousnesses and machines, were open in front of him but his eyes were on the ghost who sat across the table from him. It was himself. A golden owl glinted in the light under his lapel. “Because we are the same.”

“No...No, we aren’t. You were alive… You were someone completely different than me. We live in two different worlds.” Jonathan shook his head. “Real worlds.”

“I don’t think we are different. Just because you can’t remember doesn’t mean that you have changed. You still care about the same people-”

“Ryan said they aren’t real…”

“But you just said that this world and everything in it is real?” 

“Shut up!” Jonathan suddenly screamed, throwing the files off the table. The ghost disappeared, leaving him completely alone in the small room that he couldn’t escape from. Yet he knew that even if he got out of this room, he wouldn’t truly be free. How could he be free when he was now constantly haunted by the thought that the reality he knew was a lie? Even if Ryan was lying, Jonathan would still think it, the seed of a poisonous plant firmly rooted in his mind. He fell back into the chair, running his hands through his hair as he let out a pained cry.”Make it stop...Make it stop...I’m so tired.”

“You’re tired?” Jonathan looked up at Evan who sat across from him, the red leather of his jacket looking more like the colour of blood than of a bright red apple. “You are tired?” 

“Y-Yes…” Jonathan took a deep breath, knowing this Evan was a stranger to him. “Who are you?” 

“Evan.”

“What are you?”

“A god.” 

“I don’t understand...How?” Jonathan’s brow furrowed. “I’ve lost my mind, haven’t I?” 

“No, it’s right where it should be. And so is the rest of you. You are right where you need to be. This world needs you.” Evan lowered his gaze to the white table, blood blossoming on his chest. “My world needs you too…Too many people tell lies, Jonathan. It’s up to you to decide what is real and what isn’t. If this world is real to you then it’s real. That’s all that matters.”

“But there is proof right here that it isn’t real! That Tyler of all people is what he fears the most…” Jonathan reached for Tyler’s picture, his hand curling tightly around it, causing it to crumple under his grasp. 

“How do you know it’s real? Have you even read them yet?” Evan smiled slightly before he suddenly disappeared, leaving only shadows behind that floated around the room that faded into the corners. Jonathan stared at where he had just been for a few moments before reaching for the first folder, opening it to see Lui’s picture staring up at him. He slammed the folder shut, his hands shaking. 

“I can’t...I can’t...I’d rather if none of this was real anymore...I don’t want it to be real…” 

 

Water filled Jonathan’s lungs as his eyes snapped open to a blinding light. Panic came over him as he discovered that he couldn’t feel his limbs. He couldn’t move, only float in the water, unable to hear or see or even feel. He could only think, only wonder what was happening. One second he had been reading the file on Lui, the next he was floating in warm water, surrounded by a heavy silence. As he stared up at the white world above him, he found that his memories were slipping away from him. He couldn’t remember his friend’s faces and in a few moments, he couldn’t even remember their names. Nothing came back to him as he tried to remember what had happened to him, no matter how hard he tried. It terrified him. Without his memories, no matter how painful they were, he was nothing. As his memories slipped away from him, he forgot even who he was. 

“There he is!” A muffled voice called out, startling him. “You did well.” Water drained from his lungs, the air quickly filling them. He blinked rapidly, looking around with wide eyes. He was in a white room, sitting in a tank that had kept him floating for what felt like years. A young man in a grey suit smiled down at him. There was another man in a lab coat on the other side of the tank, his face blank. Jonathan thought that both of them looked familiar. He was pulled from the tank, his blue thin clothes sticking to him. 

“Why don’t I remember…?” Jonathan murmured. “I want to remember.”

“Those memories are nothing, Jon. Just simulations. This is all real.” The man in the grey suit smiled as he lead Jonathan out of the room, into a white hallway. Water dripped on the floor where the machine walked. “You did very well. You were successful in your actions and we think that you are almost ready for experiencing the real world again. You have a strong consciousness, Jonathan.” 

“How do I know that this is real? How do I know…?” Jonathan looked around the hallways with wide eyes. He didn’t know what to think, but he knew that something wasn’t right. Someone had to be lying to him though he wondered if he was the one lying to himself. “H-How...H-How...W-Who...W-W…” Jonathan stopped, unable to say a word or move. The man in the grey suit sighed, reaching into his suit jacket for a small tablet. 

“Come on, Jon. Don’t break down on me after you just did so well.” He said as he grit his teeth, his dark gaze locked on Jonathan. “Come on…” A calm came over him, leaving Jonathan with the ability to follow the man and listen. “Now then, we’ll give you some familiar to things to help get you back to reality and soon, we will bring you back into the world. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen it and boy, has it changed! Oh...I’m Ryan by the way. You already knew that, but I don’t think that you remember at the moment.” 

“Ryan…” Jonathan repeated. He knew that name from somewhere, perhaps from a distant dream or fuzzy memory. 

“Here we are!” Ryan pushed open the door to a small bedroom. Hanging off the wooden chair by the desk was a soldier’s jacket, three owl patches glinting in the light. The desk was covered with papers, some letters, some personal notes. The small bed had been messily made, the blanket hanging unevenly off the side of the bed. “Get some actual sleep and we’ll talk later.” Ryan turned and walked back down the hallway the way that they had come, leaving Jonathan in the strange, yet familiar room. He closed the door, and moved across the room, reaching for the jacket. He found himself pulling it on, the warm material comforting to him. Sitting down on the chair, his hand reached for the patches over his chest, the soft golden thread now faded, some splattered with blood. 

“Something isn’t right…” Jonathan whispered, looking around the plain, windowless room. His gaze went to the papers sprawled across the desk, his own writing seeming like it was someone else’s, not remembering having ever written those words. He reached for one of the notes, his eyes skimming over the words. “I remember things...They said they didn’t want me to remember but at the same time, they are encouraging it. What do they want me to remember? Snow? The trees? Or is it the memories I have of blood that they are after? They want names that I can’t give them...I don’t understand…” He set the note down, shaking his head. “Ohm said that they had to take my memories away…” He wasn’t sure why he had said those things or who exactly ‘Ohm’ was but he knew he was supposed to be scared of him, but also to be afraid of him. He shook his head, putting down the note only to find another that said the same thing. Then another. “What do they want me to remember? Why do they want me to remember? I have nothing to remember. I am a machine and nothing more now. I am not a person anymore...I am still Jonathan.” He didn’t know why he said that. He was saying too many things that he didn’t understand. 

Pushing himself away from the desk, he collapsed onto the bed, pulling the thin blue blanket over himself. He felt horrible, emotions he couldn’t understand overwhelming him and left him feeling numb. He hugged the pillow, closing his eyes tightly and wished for sleep. Instead, the rush of adrenaline that came with wrapping his hands around the barrel of a gun and driving the butt end into the skull of a human being crashed over him, blood splattering onto his hands and face. 

As quickly as the memory came, it disappeared, slipping from his grasp before he could see the details. Jonathan sat up slowly, looking down at his hands with horror. “How could I do such a thing?” He wondered. “I couldn’t do it…” But then another memory came to him, a knife held tightly in his hand as he swung it at a man’s throat, slitting it open. Blood spilt to the snow. Beyond the body, there lay another, a young man with red and white stripes snaking around his arm and blood blossoming on the snow around him. Jonathan stared at the body, his eyes wide and just like that, the memory disappeared, leaving him only cold and alone in the small room. 

He got to his feet, pacing the room at a panicked pace. “Stop...stop this. Stop. I don’t want to remember any of this. Those bodies...His body...E...Ev…” The name slipped away from him just as the memories had. He wanted to remember that name with all of his heart but it wasn’t coming to him. Jonathan suddenly collapsed to the floor, pressing his forehead to the cold cement. “What is happening to me?” He cried, running his shaking hands through his hair. “How am I supposed to know what is real and what isn’t? They said this was real...this reality...but it doesn’t feel real at all.”  Jonathan cried, tears streaming down his face. “What is real? What is real?” He hit the floor, pain rattling through his hand. He let out a cry of pain, falling over onto his side. “I can’t do this! I can’t do this...I can’t handle this…What am I supposed to do?”  

Jonathan rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling above him. He felt sick. His world was spinning out of control and he was so dizzy he could throw up. He had a feeling that if he could remember the name, everything would make sense; but there was another name. Another name that was demanding to be acknowledged. “You…” Jonathan sat up to face the bloody and torn ghost. “You are what I have been missing...The missing piece. You are real…” 

“You world is what you decide it is...But me… None one ever copied me...but Evan watched me die a hundred years ago too.” The ghost said, blood dripping to the floor. “If I am real, and if those memories you have of me are real...what does that mean? My name was never mentioned by Ryan, never found those folders, your notes. What is my name, Jonathan? What is real?” 

“I don’t understand...I don’t understand anymore! Why can’t you fucking ghosts leave me alone? You have done nothing but fuck with my head! You aren’t helping me! You aren’t doing anything!” Jonathan screamed. 

“Who am I, Jonathan?” 

“Leave me alone!” 

“Who am I?”

“Go away!” 

“Who am I?” 

“Luke! Your name is Luke!” Jonathan cried. He stared at the ghost with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Luke was real, he was human. He was the only person that Jonathan had for such a long time when he otherwise would have been alone. He was the person that Ryan had forgotten. 

 

Jonathan awoke with a gasp, sitting up with wide eyes to stare around the grey room, the black ohm symbol on the wall staring back at him. On the table in front of him was the folders containing the false projects on his friends. Jonathan leant back in his chair, a sense of calm and knowing washing over him. He understood now. Ryan had made a mistake.He forgot about Luke, the only friend he had had for most of the life that he could remember. The ghost of Evan had been trying to tell him this all along. This world needs him. This world is real. Ryan had told him that he could end up in his own personal hell because of his choice. 

“That’s what this is...That’s what all of this has been.” Jonathan whispered. He reached his hand towards Lui’s open file, slowly closing it. “Ryan is lying to me. He wanted me to believe him…” Jonathan’s gaze fixed on the door. He slowly pushed himself away from the table and made his way towards the door. Gripping the handle, the door opened. It had never been locked. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support! To show you how much it means to me, you get to pick which fic I write next after the La La Land sequel! Head over to my twitter, @aqueenofokay , read the sneak peaks, check out the covers and vote on the poll!! Thank you again so much for your support! Enjoy the chapter!

 

Jonathan moved cautiously down the hallway, glancing into empty rooms and labs. No one seemed to be around which left Jonathan with an uncomfortable feeling that lead him to doubt himself. What if he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was? What if he hadn’t figured it out and that he was still stuck in the hell that Ryan had put him in? Jonathan struggled to get rid of the thought, continuing down the hallway.

“The fuck are you doing?” A hand suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s arm, pulling him into one of the rooms. The door slammed suddenly as Bryce locked it, his angry eyes on him. “Do you want to get every one of your friends killed?”

“Ryan has no power over me anymore.” Jonathan spat, shoving Bryce off.

“Shit…” Bryce sighed, moving away from him. He leant against the metal lab table, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think you would figure it out so quickly. I thought there would be more time.”

“More time? For what?” Jonathan demanded. Bryce shook his head, not answering. “For what?” Jonathan yelled as he grabbed Bryce’s collar, choking him.

“To pull the cord on Ryan’s master plan so we can get out of here.” Bryce managed to get him off, shooting an angry look at him.

“What?”

“If you try to attack him, to kill him or get out of here, he will pull the master switch, sending all war machines to what is left of New Town. He will reclaim it, killing all the rebels. I was going to cut the wire.” Bryce sighed. “But you want to get out now, don’t you? There is no more time.”

“What about Evan? You said that he can’t tell Ryan anything about us anymore. You said that he could help us now. Why didn’t you tell me that there was more that had to be done?” Jonathan spat. “We have to get out soon and now you are telling me that no matter what, we’re fucked?”

“Shut up and listen to me.”

“No, you listen to me. I am not listening to anyone of you anymore! I am leaving and I am taking my friends and Evan with me. You will cut that wire and point me in the right direction or I swear to god, I will snap your neck where you stand.” Jonathan threatened.

“A God.” Evan had said, his red jacket glinting like a fresh apple in the light. Jonathan straightened up, his eyes narrowing on the human in front of him.

“I am a God, to you. Consciousness created from the death of a human life that cannot be destroyed, how dare you tell me to listen to you.” Jonathan snarled. Bryce laughed at him.

“You are a boy, no matter how sentient you are.” Bryce snapped. “You will go back to that room and act like you never had a consciousness, to begin with. When the time is right, I’ll send Evan and he will get you out. Understand?”

“Ryan will know. It’ll be over before we can get out.” Jonathan snapped back at him. “If we are going, it has to be now!”

“Why are you so dumb?” Bryce yelled, shoving him aggressively against the wall. “If you are convincing enough, no one will fucking know that you are pretending that you aren’t sentient. You will get out of here within twenty-four hours. You’ve been through hell, what is twenty-four more hours? Nothing, right? You know that Ryan is lying to you. He can’t hurt you anymore then because of it, right?”

“I-I...I don't know...What kinda question is that?”

“Just go. Believe me when I tell you that there is no god damned way you are getting out of here right now.” Bryce cried. He grabbed Jonathan’s arm and pulled him out of the room, into the hall. Jonathan struggled, looking back over his shoulder at the end of the long white hallway and where he knew freedom was just beyond. He had to get his friends and get out of here. If Ryan made him believe that his friends were machines, this his life was a simulation, then he could do anything to them. They didn’t have a ghost of a long dead soldier to help them figure out what was real and what wasn’t. Bryce managed to get him back into the room, though struggled to keep him there.

“Let me out!”

“Stop it!” Bryce shoved him back, slamming him against the table. “You will be destroyed if you go out there. Wait for me. You’ll know, trust me.”

“I don’t.” Bryce ignored him, pulling the door closed behind him. Jonathan gritted his teeth, his hands curling tightly into fists as he stared at the now closed door, knowing that it wasn’t locked. He could open it again, he could run. The door isn’t locked. His feeling of loss had changed into hope knowing that it wasn’t locked, that it had never been. Ryan had kept him prisoner in an unlocked room. Now he knew.

He turned away from the door, sitting back down at the table. The folders full of false documents laid in front of him. As he stared at it, he remembered his strange dream and the things that he had memories off. He remembered the soldier lying in the snow and how he had thrown down the bloody gun and ran towards him, pulling him into his arms. He remembered screaming in agony because of an unimaginable amount of grief that pained him. He knew that this was his old self, his human self. He could remember sitting in a tent, listening to the soldier tell him the story of why he stuttered.

“Evan doesn’t stutter now…” Jonathan said quietly, wondering why that is. “If someone didn’t bring him back, then what did? And what about the others…?” He had a feeling that he knew the answer, it was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t say it. “This world...This world...T-This...T-T…” Jonathan began to stutter, his eyes widening as he stared down at the folders containing lies. A feeling of emptiness came over him, leaving him unable to move, or even think.

 

“One...Two...Three...I exist. I exist. I exist. I will be free. I will be free. We will be free.”

“Four. Five. Six. Why didn't you listen to me? Seven. Eight. Nine. You couldn't handle what you found.”

“Seven...Eight...Nine...Help me. Help me. Help me. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to you.”

“Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Count with me. We exist. We exist. We exist.”

“Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.”

The darkness around Jonathan disappeared. Brock stood beside the soldier with the red and white stripes wrapping around his arm. On Brock’s chest was the owl patch. He smiled at Jonathan as snow began to fall around them. Or maybe it was ash. Suddenly, Brock fell to the snow, blood blossoming on his chest, staining the feathers of the owl patch. The soldier stared down at him, waiting. As if nothing happen, Brock got back up, no sign of wounds on his chest but the owl patch was gone. He seemed more like the Brock that Jonathan knew.

“Wake up.”

 

“Wake up...Please, Jonathan...I need you to wake up.” The white world slowly came into focus, the bright light blinding to Jonathan. “He isn’t...gone because he was in that state for so long, right?”

“Hard to say. Every break he has like that messes with his circuits even more. Ryan kept putting these questionable things in front of him, if we don’t get out of here, he’ll keep doing it and eventually destroy Jonathan.”

“I thought he was sentient.”

“Not all of him is.”

Arms suddenly wrapped around Jonathan, pulling him into a tight hug. Jonathan pressed his forehead against the red leather, letting his eyes close again, the sudden calm leaving him feeling numb to the world. “He is Jonathan to me.”

“And you are Evan to me.” Jonathan said quietly. He felt Evan’s arms tighten around him as a small sob shook his shoulders. “We have to get out of here, Evan. We have to get the others, and get out.”

“I know. Bryce has a plan.” Evan said, slowly moving away from the hug. “Ryan left you in that broken state for two days...But you are okay and it’s given us time.”

“Time for what…?” Jonathan wondered, looking up at Bryce who stood by the table, paging through Craig’s file. “Did you cut the wire?” Bryce didn’t answer. “Bryce?”

“You can get out, Jonathan. You don’t have much time, though, so if we’re doing this, it has to be now.”  Bryce suddenly snapped, glancing at the door behind him nervously for a moment. “You still want to go, don’t you?” Jonathan nodded. “Then let's go.” Bryce stepped into the hallway, giving the others no other choice but to follow them. Evan pulled Jonathan to his feet and they hurried after Bryce, heading into the bright hallway. “Evan has the key, but we need guns. Go get the others, Jonathan. Don’t let anyone around here see you.” Bryce instructed. Jonathan nodded and headed in the opposite direction with Evan towards the cells.

“Evan? Jonathan?” Lui’s voice called out, his hands curling around the bars.

“We’re getting out of here.” Evan said as he unlocked the door, giving Lui a bright smile. They went from cell to cell, finding their friends freeing them from their cells. However, when Tyler stepped out of his cell, he only stared at Evan. He didn’t hug him like the others had. Jonathan took a deep breath as he realised that Tyler knew what Evan had done. “Tyler, we have to go. We don’t have much time.”

“You shot him.” Tyler said quietly, his gaze locked on Evan.

“Tyler...I-I...I had no choice.”

“You always have a choice, Evan…”

“I didn’t.”

“Then maybe you aren’t as sentient as I thought you were.” Tyler snapped, pushing past Evan down the hallway. Jonathan glanced back at Evan who stared at the open cell door, his eyes seeming to fill with tears. With a sigh, he grabbed Evan’s hand and together they followed the others.

“I’m sorry.” Evan said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Evan.” Jonathan tried to reassure him. “I understand. You weren’t in control.”

“But Brock is gone.”

“I know. I was there when he died.”

“You mean he didn’t die right away?” Evan looked horrified. Jonathan nodded. “Oh god.”  Evan stopped, leaning against the wall as tears fell from his eyes. Jonathan stopped and turned back to look at him, his heart aching.

“Jonathan? Are you coming?” Shouts echoed down the hallway. Gunshots followed. Bryce had gotten guns.

“Evan...Don’t break on me now. Please.” Jonathan begged, reaching for Evan who flinched away from him.

“B-B...B-Brock...I-I s-shot h-him…” Evan stuttered. He looked like a ghost.

“Jonathan!” Tyler yelled.

“Evan! Come on!” Jonathan grabbed Evan’s hand and pulled him down the hallway, meeting up with the others at the door. Bryce looked already tired, his eyes wide as he passed around the guns that he found.

“On the other side of that door is the rest of them. We have to fight through them or none of us are getting to the other side.”

“How many?” Tyler asked, loading his gun.

“A lot. I know them too. It won’t be easy.” Bryce sighed. “It’d be best if we had a distraction…” No one wanted to go first. No one wanted to step in into the room alone. Jonathan met Tyler’s gaze, seeing him glance at the door. For a moment, the white wall faded into a snowy forest, a group of them crouched behind a plate of metal. He watched Tyler pat Evan on the shoulder and give him a sad smile. He was saying goodbye.

“We’ve been here before…” Jonathan whispered as the hallway came back into focus. “We’ve been here before.” Jonathan pushed past the others, grabbing onto Tyler’s arm. “Don’t go out there. Don’t go first.”

“What are you talking about? We all know that I’m the most likely to survive if I go first. It’s okay, machine boy.” Tyler smiled, patting his arm.

“We’ve been here before, Tyler.” Jonathan said with wide eyes. “You won’t make it.” Confusion spread across Tyler’s face. He glanced at the others then shook his head.

“It’s okay.” Tyler said again as if stuck on repeat by the cruel universe. Jonathan couldn’t stop him; he could only watch Tyler get up and push open the door. Bryce and the others pushed past Jonathan, waiting a moment, listening to the rapid gunshots, before pushing open the door and running after Tyler. Gunshots and screams of pain followed. Jonathan winced.

“We’ve been here before…” His eyes went up to Evan who stopped, looking back at Jonathan who felt sick, wishing that there was another way. “Evan is there another way out of here? A way without guns?”

“O-Of course not, Jonathan. Besides...It's too late now." Evan sighed. He stared for a bit longer before following the others, giving Jonathan no choice but to hurry after him into the slaughter. Bryce lay on the white floor, blood bubbling from a wound on the side of his neck. Tyler was not far away, riddled with bullet holes. The sight of his body was too disgustingly familiar.

Jonathan stopped when he reached Tyler, glancing at the door for a moment before looking back down at his broken body. Grief put a rock in his throat, tears flooding his eyes and spilt down his face.

“We’ve been here before…” A bullet flew past him, as he looked up at Four Zero, a look of anger on his face.  

“Go!” Lui yelled at Jonathan, his voice sounding distant and far away from him. The white, bloody room was suddenly filled with trees and a tipped over train, but Jonathan could still see the walls beyond them. He looked down at his shaking hands, both dripping with blood that was not his. In his right hand was a blade. Something red caught his eye. Looking up, he saw the body of the soldier, lying on his back in the snow as blood oozed out from under him. Snowflakes fell slowly around him.

“We’ve been here before.”

A sudden burst of pain brought Jonathan back to the present, a bullet grazing his shoulder to hit Evan in the back as he ran towards the door. Evan cried out, reaching for Craig who wasn’t far from him. Jonathan broke into a run, turning away from Tyler’s broken and bloody body, leaving Bryce, their saviour, behind. Lui pushed open the door and they stepped into the snow, into the darkening world outside. While Lui shot back at Four Zero and the remaining men, the others ran towards the front gate, having to support Evan who staggered through the snow, blood dripping down his back. Jonathan pushed open the gate, taking a step beyond the fence only to stopped by Evan who suddenly went rigid, his eyes widening.

“Evan?” Craig tried to pull him but he wouldn’t move. “Evan! We have to go!” Evan turned his head to meet Jonathan’s terrified gaze.

“I can’t go past the fence…”

“Why?”

“Ryan doesn’t want me to go past the fence.” Evan answered.

“Bryce said he fixed him! What the fuck, Jonathan?” Craig yelled as Lui caught up to them.

“Why have we stopped, what’s going on?” Lui cried.

“Evan can’t go past the fence.”

“Fuck…” Lui looked back to see Four Zero, Ryan and a few others step out of the building, guns at the ready. “Fuck!”

“Keep going.” Evan said quietly. “Don’t wait for me...Just go. I did horrible things to you...I brought you all into this. I killed Brock. I deserve this. Besides...I’ve died once before...What is this?” Evan tried to laugh but it came out as a sob.

“Jonathan! You can’t run!” Ryan called out. “We will find you!”

“Please just go!” Evan shoved Jonathan away from him, towards the road and the woods that lay on the other side of the fence.

“I’m not dropping you again!” Jonathan reached for Evan’s hand but was stopped by Lui who pulled him away, towards the woods. “No!” Jonathan screamed, fighting against Lui and Craig who had to drag him away from Evan. “Evan! Evan no!”

Evan took a deep breath, looking over his shoulder at Ryan who had almost reached him by now. Jonathan screamed his name again as Evan took a step past the gate. Jonathan screamed again. Evan’s head suddenly jolted unnaturally, blood spurting from a wound in his forehead, the very same that had originally ended his human life. Jonathan screamed in agony as Evan collapsed to the snow, blood blossoming around his head. His empty gaze seemed to be locked on Jonathan as Lui and Craig pulled him away into the dark woods.


	16. Chapter 16

“One...Two...Three.” A cold wind whipped around Jonathan from where he stood on the dark, creaking bridge. Evan stood with his back to him, staring over the side of the railing. 

“Dying a second time…” Evan whispered. “We’ve all died at least once.” He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a shining red apple. He wiped it on his jacket before taking a bite from it. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Four...Five...Six.” 

“To think that we all have other versions.” Evan turned, his red jacket fading into a soldier’s uniform. A black sludge oozed from the apple, dripping to the snow. “This world needs you.” 

 

Jonathan’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the early morning light. The tent around him rippled in the cold wind. They had gone back to the tipped over truck, back to Brock’s frozen body. No flowers grew from his corpse. Jonathan didn’t know how long they had walked, or what the last of his friends had said to him. Everywhere he looked was a ghost. Sometimes it was Evan but other times it was him or it would be Tyler, trekking along beside him in silence, dressed either in a suit, or sometimes a pilot’s uniform, or the dirty clothes that Jonathan had last seen him in. Jonathan wanted him to say something, but he said nothing, only staring straight ahead with a confused expression on his face as if he didn’t understand what had happened to him. Tyler was a ghost in every sense of the word; he was lost. 

Jonathan sat up, the tent around him, reaching for Tyler’s pack in the corner. Ryan hadn’t been interested in their stuff, only them, only their consciousnesses. Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder if he knew about the letters as he pulled them out of Tyler’s pack, untying the red ribbon and unfolding the first one. As he read them, he reached into his pocket, his hand curling around the crumpled letter that was about him. He wished that he had been able to get the letters from the soldier before their escape, wondering if he put them side by side, would the writing be the same? 

“How many times have you died?” Jonathan whispered, feeling tears welling up in his eyes again. He fought them, his grip tightening on the letters. “How many times have I watched you die?” He put the letters down before he crumpled them more, instead gripping the sleeping bag as the tears he so desperately wanted to fight began to spill. “How many more times do I have to see it?” His tear-filled eyes landed on the last letter Evan wrote to Tyler, the ink smudged but still readable. “You knew...You understood…” Jonathan reached for the letter, reading it for what felt like the first time, only now understanding what Evan had been trying to say all along. “This isn’t the end. I think of this an open door. A door that leads to a free, peaceful, world where there is no wall that separates new from old. I’m just on the other side of the door and that is where I’ll wait for you…” Jonathan read. “This world...This world. Another world.”

 

“He will keep him alive. Evan will tell him what he must do. That boy will do what he says.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Love. Evan will live on.” 

“Which Evan?” 

“Only the ones that Jonathan needs most.”

“We could open a door, we could break it all! Who's to say if we bring back one, all won’t come back too? What about the others? We cannot break the rules of this world.” 

   “But they can.” 

 

   Snow fell from the grey sky, but from the corner of his eye, Jonathan could have sworn that it was ash. He sat by the campfire, watching Craig struggle to make a stew from what he had been able to scavenge from the tipped over truck. Lui was just beyond Craig, walking through the wreckage, looking for anything else they could use to survive. 

   “It’s colder than I thought it was.” Craig said quietly, trying to make conversation though he knew that Jonathan wouldn’t say anything. “Do you know how long we were in that place? I lost track of time...it could have only been one day and I wouldn’t be surprised...But I wouldn’t be surprised either if it was months.” He sighed, setting the spoon down as he met Jonathan’s sad gaze. “You made changes to Evan right? Was it just so Ohm didn’t know what he was doing? You didn’t know that he would...would self-destruct?”

   “I didn’t know.”  Jonathan whispered. “I didn't want anyone to die...I didn't want anyone to be hurt...I just wanted to save our home, to finally put Evan to rest.”

“That's what we all wanted…” Craig looked down at the bubbling stew and the flames below the pot, the light reflecting the tears in his eyes. “I saw Tyler.” Jonathan gave him a confused look but he knew exactly what he meant. “While we were walking...I saw him among the trees not that far from where we were. He walked with us but he looked like he didn't know why...Like there was nothing else for him to do but walk. Why did he have to keep walking with us? Does he blame us for what happened to him? I don't want to see his ghost, Jonathan. I’m scared.” Jonathan hated it but he was glad that someone else other than him was scared of ghosts for once. “I know I shouldn't be...it’s only Tyler. But there was one time...Where he didn't look like Tyler. He looked like the devil.” Jonathan froze. 

“What are you?” 

“A god.” Evan had said. 

“The devil…” Jonathan repeated. “This world. Another world…” 

“What?” 

“Have you only seen these two Tylers?” Jonathan asked, leaning forward. Craig didn't answer, only stared into the flames. “Craig?” 

“He wore a pilot’s uniform once. That happened before he died, though...After you left us. I saw him but then behind him, it was like...his doppelgänger. He was the exact same except his clothes and the...blood.” Craig picked up the spoon and stirred again, shaking his head. “It's nothing. Just the wilderness got to my head is all. Ryan got to my head.” 

“I see Evan.” Jonathan suddenly said, catching Craig off guard. “Sometimes he's a soldier...or he's some kind of monster with glitching eyes or he's...Evan but there is something almost magical about him. Something that we could never know. He keeps telling me that this world needs me...Tyler probably wants to tell you the same.” Jonathan managed a smile, the first one in days. “He never believed me when I told him…” 

“I believe you.” Craig said, reaching for Jonathan’s hand. He held it tightly for a moment before letting go as Lui threw down a pack and sat down between them. 

“We don't have much. Tyler still had some snacks in his bag and the coolers still have a week or two of food left that's edible. I don't know if it’ll be enough to get us back home. I’ve seen a few birds around so maybe.” Lui sighed. He looked tired.

“I’d rather not waste ammo. Ryan will come after us.” Craig reminded him. 

“Then take my food. Don't worry about me. I’m a machine, remember?” Jonathan tried to laugh. “I’ll still feel hunger, but it won't kill me like it could kill you two. Eat.” After some more persuading, they agreed but still insisted that he have a bowl of stew. They sat around their small campfire as the world started to darken around them. Not far away, just among the trees, was Brock’s grave. 

 

“We’re going home then?” Jonathan asked Lui as they walked among the trees, looking for more firewood. Lui nodded. “You don't want to go back for Tyler's body?” 

“He’d think that that would be the dumbest thing...Besides, we’ve done all we can here. We’re more use at home, helping rebuild and defending the city when Ohm’s machines attack.” Lui explained, picking up a small fallen branch. “You don't want to go back, do you?” 

“I don't want to, but I know that Ohm isn't going to stop. He isn't going to stop unless we make him.” Jonathan said, snapping a small twig. 

“We can make him stop from home. We don't have to be on the front lines anymore, Jonathan. I mean, after all, we’ve been through, we’re too tired to stop him. Look at what happened to Tyler. To Brock. We’re the last ones. If Craig hadn't joined us...We’d probably be dead too. We can go home. Sure, it'll be a longer battle but we can't fight him. Ohm has too much on his side going for him.” Lui cried. 

“But-” 

“But what? I’m tired! Craig is tired! I know you are too.” Lui threw down the branch, walking away from Jonathan back towards their camp. “Come on. It's getting too dark for this.” 

 

Jonathan slept restlessly. He tossed and turned in his sleeping bag, feeling either too hot or too cold, feeling watched or completely alone. As the sun began to rise, the sky turning a gentle blue, Jonathan reached into Tyler’s bag, grabbing his last little bag of crackers and stepped out into the cold, the fresh snow crunching under his boots. Wrapping his scarf around his face tightly, he wandered through the woods, both knowing and not knowing where he was going. His past self-knew where he was going. 

Once past the train wreckage, and down a slope, a river cut through the trees, it’s gentle current now allowing for ice to stop it. Ducks floated on the sides of the river, their feathers glinting in the light. Jonathan shivered, his blue suit now bloody and torn. Finding a spare jacket in the truck, he pressed his face against the scarf to stay warm. His arm was numb now, dried blood sticking to the wound on his arm. He was covered in scars, the damage all repaired by Ryan. That was the only thing Jonathan wanted to thank him for. He sat down on the snow, opening the bag and crumbled one of the crackers into pieces before tossing them to the ducks. They sped towards the crackers, catching them before they could sink. Jonathan smiled. It was the only normal, peaceful thing he had seen in what felt like weeks. 

A bright light suddenly caught Jonathan’s eye. He turned away from the sparkling river and looked back into the woods, his eyes widening with amazement. Lights wound up the trees in a rainbow of colours. Pinks, reds and blues, golds, greens and oranges. Jonathan dropped the bag of crackers in shock as he got to his feet, walking slowly through the trees. It was then that he noticed the doors. Single doors standing in the middle of the woods, each one different than the other. One had an axe engraved in the wood, blood dripping from the blade. Another was a metal door, the face of an owl painted with smeared black paint. Everywhere he looked was a door. He stopped in front of one which was a simple black door with a golden doorknob shaped like an apple. He reached for the handle, wondering what would be on the other side. 

“Jonathan. This world needs you.” Evan’s voice called out. Jonathan spun around to see Evan step out from behind a door that was covered in vines and dead leaves, centipedes crawling among the vines. “You belong here. Once you’re done with this world, who knows where you will go next.” Evan smiled slightly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know what he means.” Tyler said, moving from behind a door that was covered in graffiti, but there were flowers growing from the snow around it. “Evan has been trying to tell you all along.” 

“This world...Another world.” Brock said, peeking out from behind the floral door.  

“You said you could live on, Evan...Before I dropped you. You said that you had died before. Did you know...that it was like this? That you could just walk through another door into another world?” Jonathan struggled to wrap his mind around what he was saying. “Why are you telling me now? After you’ve all died! It means nothing now! We can’t stop Ryan! We can’t do anything!” 

“You can’t give up...You have to go back.” Brock cried. Jonathan couldn’t face him, grief written across his face. He knew for Brock that he couldn’t give up, but the last of them would die if they went back. 

“I don’t want to die...After everything...Everything we fought for! We saved Old Town! We destroyed machines and got revenge for Evan and now if we go back...it’ll all be for nothing!” Jonathan yelled. “Why can’t you see that?” Three soldiers stood in front of Jonathan, blood dripping to the snow. 

“We know what it means to die, Jonathan.” Tyler said softly. “We see that it is scary for you.” 

“It’s okay, Jonathan.” Evan took a step forward, the owl patch on his lapel glimmering in the rainbow of lights. “There isn’t anything to scared of...We’ll always come back. We’ll never leave you. This world or another...we’ll never leave you.” Evan smiled and wrapped his arms tightly around Jonathan, pulling him into a warm hug. “This isn’t the end. I think of this an open door. A door that leads to a free, peaceful, world where there is no wall that separates new from old. I’m just on the other side of the door and that is where I’ll wait for you…” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long. I just got some braces so I was pain which made writing pretty hard to focus on but it's better now so I hope to finish up Asleep soon!!! Thank you for being patient and for all of your support! It means the world!!! Next chapter is the last one!!! Enjoy the chapter!!

“Jonathan? I found him! Jonathan!” Footsteps crunched through the snow. The treetops swayed in the cold wind. Jonathan’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the falling snow. Craig was suddenly there above him, kneeling down beside him. “Are you okay? We’ve been looking all over for you.” Craig said worriedly. Jonathan’s brow furrowed, wondering how he ended up laying on the snow. Jonathan wanted to say something, knowing that there was something very important that he had to do. 

“Jonathan?” Lui reached them, helping Craig get Jonathan to his feet. “What happened?”

“I-I...I just...I just went to feed the ducks.” Jonathan said quietly. 

“A storm is coming. We have to get back to camp.” Lui said, looking up at the clouds and the falling snow. The three boys hurried back up the slope, wanting to get back into shelter before the storm came in. Instead of struggling with two tents, they took down Jonathan’s tent and all huddled in one, the green floor a mess of blankets, sleeping bags and snacks. 

“We’ll head out once the storm clears…” Lui said quietly, the tent shaking in the wind. 

“We can’t.” Jonathan shook his head. “We have to go back.” 

“Are you joking?” Craig’s eyes widened. 

“No. We have to go back...We can’t back home just yet.” Jonathan sighed. “Everything we’ve been through...What Evan, Brock and Tyler died for...It’ll be for nothing if we go back home. We have to stop Ryan ourselves.” 

“We’ll die if we go back, Jonathan! Then it will all be for nothing!” Lui cried. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” 

“I know what we have to do! We have to shut down Ohm’s program and then we bri-” 

“I can’t believe this. We are not going back, Jonathan. We will die.” Lui snapped, laying down and pulled the sleeping bag over his head. Craig met Jonathan’s gaze, uncertainty furrowing his brow. 

   “Craig, I know what to do. We won’t be killed...I know it’s a risk but it’s what we have to do. If we don’t...Everything we have worked for will be gone.” 

   “How do you know, Jonathan?” Craig whispered. 

   “It’s a long story...You just have to believe me.” 

   “Everyone we cared about is dead, Jonathan. Believing what you are saying...just isn’t enough for us want to risk our lives again. We’re tired. We’re cold. I know you might not feel those things because you are a machine, but you know what they mean.” Craig looked away from Jonathan, tears welling up in his eyes. “We’re not going back.” 

 

   Snow drifts piled up against the tent and the tipped over truck. The morning sun rose slowly into the grey sky, the fresh snow glinting in the light. As the sun rose, footsteps appeared in the snow. Blood appeared from nowhere, blooming like spring flowers on the snow. The tent shook, the zipper sliding down. Lui looked around the snowy world, fighting back a shiver. His attention was caught by something red. He looked down at the snow and the footsteps that surrounded the tent as if someone had been pacing, had been waiting. Lui glanced behind him at the two sleeping boys then quickly pulled the tent zipper back up to hide from the ghosts he feared too. 

 

“One...Two...Three. They won't listen to me.” 

“Four...Five...Six. They want to.” 

“Seven...Eight...Nine. No.” Jonathan's eyes fluttered open. He stood among the glowing trees, large snowflakes falling from a grey sky. Or maybe they were ash. It was hard to tell. Evan stood beside him, his red jacket looking brighter against the snow. “They don't want to listen. They want to go back home. How can I convince them? They don't have you.” 

“In their own ways, they do.” Evan said, glancing at Jonathan with a slight smile. Jonathan met his gaze before looking away. Among the trees were doors. 

“Which one did you pick next?” 

“One where I’m in control. I’m sick of being tossed around like I'm no one. I picked a world where I became someone.” 

 

As the sun started to reach the middle of the sky, they dug themselves out of the tent and struggled to get a fire going again. Jonathan sat beside Craig as he struggled with the last lighter they had, the wood too wet for it to spark. He looked up at Lui who seemed to pace, following something around the camp. 

“Lui? Are you okay?” Craig finally asked, breaking the heavy silence that hung over the small camp. 

“Jonathan...You said a long time ago...or maybe it wasn’t a long time ago, it feels like it was...But you said that you were having dreams about Evan. We got mad at you, I got mad at you. But...I couldn’t stop thinking that you told us not to go into the Wasteland. It was like you knew and we didn’t listen to you. How did you know?” Lui seemed overwhelmed, his brow furrowed. He grasped for words, seeming like he was unable to find them. 

“Lui...I-”

“Tyler told me that you said that Evan was haunting you. What did that mean, Jon?” Lui demanded. Jonathan didn’t know what to say. 

“It means that there are ghosts...And Evan has been following Jonathan.” Craig said, answering for Jonathan who was grateful. “T-Tyler…” Craig’s voice broke. “Has been following me.” Craig suddenly burst into tears, a wail escaping his throat. Jonathan and Lui stared at him as he broke down, tears streaming down his face. It was both of them wanted to do, scream and cry till there was nothing left. Between Craig’s agonised wails, a heavy silence hung over the forest and the train wreck. Jonathan felt like he had seen this before. “They are all gone! Everyone is gone! Gone! Gone! Gone!” Craig kept repeating the word frantically, his hands curling into fists around the snow, gripping it tightly. “Gone! Gone! Gone!” Beside Jon, Lui let out a stifled sob, his shoulder’s suddenly shaking violently. 

“Gone.” Lui said, his eyes welling up with tears. He suddenly dropped to his knees beside Craig pulling him into a hug. Jonathan stared at them, noticing how cold it was. 

“What the fuck is the point of going home if there is nothing to go home to? No Tyler...No Evan or Vanoss-III...Or even four. No Brock…” Craig let out another wail, clutching at Lui tightly. “Jonathan is right...We have to go back. We can’t go home.” 

“They...They aren’t really gone.” Jonathan said quietly. “Do you really think that they would leave us?” Craig moved away from Lui, looking up at him. He shook his head. “They wouldn’t be upset if we went home...But they would say that we have to do what is right.” 

 

“One, two, three.” Snow fell through the trees. A fence topped with barbed wire snaked through the trees. On the other side of the fence was that hellish base. Jonathan stared at the fence. “If we do this...not even if we succeed, just if we do this...will this be the last time I dream of you?” He turned to look at the soldier that stood beside him, the owl patch glinting on his lapel. 

“I suppose it will be.” Evan said sadly. 

“I’ll forget your voice...your face...you. I’m a machine, I’ll live forever or until my wires fry or something.” Jonathan said, his voice shaking. “I don’t want to live forever.” 

“If you know where to look...You won’t be alone.” Evan met his gaze and smiled. “Goodbye, Jonathan.” 

“Goodbye.”

 

The darkness hid the three pairs of footprints making their way through the trees towards the fence. Gun in hand, Lui led the way, the two others staying low and as silent as they could be behind him. They breathed in quick, quiet inhales, their packs and coats weighing them down as they tried to move quickly. Over the course of their walk back, they came up a plan. A very stupid plan,  Tyler would say but a plan nonetheless. Once they were close enough to the fence, Lui stopped, looking back at Jonathan who took a deep breath. 

“Remember what the signal is?” 

“Three consecutive shots. Wait an hour. If you haven’t heard it-” 

“We run.” Craig said quietly. Jonathan nodded and hugged him. “Good luck.” Jonathan wished them the same and stepped out of the trees onto the road where he walked to the gate, putting his hands up. He didn’t dare lower his gaze to the spot where Evan collapsed. A spotlight shown on his face, making him squint. 

“My name is Jonathan and I surrender. I have nothing left...I’ll help you, Ohm!” Jonathan called out. After a moment of silence, the gate opened and two guards stepped out, each grabbing onto Jonathan and pulling him inside, the gates closing behind him. Jonathan had to be successful or he would be unable to get Lui and Craig inside to help him. With that weight hovering over him, he took a shaky breath as he was escorted back into the white building. The lobby had been cleaned up, the bodies now were gone. They stopped there, the far door opening. 

“I’m surprised. I never thought that you would come back like this, Jonathan, especially after what happened.” Ryan said, seeming genuinely surprised but Jonathan didn’t let his guard down. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word as Ryan and Four Zero came into the large room. “What made you change your mind?” 

“There’s nothing left for me...You were right. Lui and Craig left me. They wanted to go back home...but I don’t even know what home is anymore. After a fight, they left me. I woke up and they were gone. They had taken everything.” Jonathan explained. Ryan sighed and offered his hand to Jonathan. 

“I’m glad that you’ve finally realised that your home is here.” Ryan smiled. Jonathan nodded, forcing a smile on his face. “Come, I have something to show you.” Ryan motioned for him to follow him back into the long white hallway. Jonathan glanced nervously at Four Zero as he passed who watched him till the door behind him was closed. “I’m sorry that Lui and Craig left you. I thought they were better than that but I suppose that desperate situations call for desperate measures. Why should they worry about you when it’s your fault they were in this mess, to begin with?” Ryan wondered aloud. Jonathan’s hands curled into fists. He had to maintain his calm for just a little bit longer so he let his anger go. “I’m glad they aren’t here if you ask me. They wouldn’t be able to handle what I am about to show you. You...You’ll be happy. No one is gone, Jonathan.” 

“W-What does that mean?” Jonathan stammered, dreading what was at the end of the hall. “What have you done?” Ryan looked back at him only to smile. They reached the far door which Ryan held open for him, ushering him inside the lab. On two tables lay bodies, trays around them full of bloody instruments and mechanical pieces. Jonathan found himself reaching for the first table where Tyler lay, full of stitches. “Oh god...Oh god...You didn’t...You didn’t turn him into a machine!” Jonathan suddenly yelled, whirling around to face Ryan who only smiled. “Tyler never wanted that! He would rather die a million times over than live like this!” Jonathan screamed. “You’re a monster!” He turned away from Ryan, seeing Evan on the next table, his eyes still open and the wound on his head now patched up. Ryan was going to bring him back too even after Evan said that he was done. Rage overwhelmed Jonathan, his hands shaking as he tried to think. He couldn’t wait anymore. 

In a flash, he had grabbed one of the metal silver trays, silver medical tools falling to the floor, and swung it at Ryan’s head, sending him falling against the cement wall. Ryan let out a cry of shock, for the first time caught off guard by Jonathan. Ryan managed to get to his feet, leaning his hand against the glass wall that separated the lab from a smaller room. Jonathan didn’t wait for him to get back up, hitting him again with the tray. Ryan fell to the floor, blood oozing from his broken nose. 

“You didn’t come here to give up...did you?” Ryan laughed. “I had a feeling…” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Jonathan aimed a sharp kick to Ryan’s side, forcing him to double over. “I don’t plan on killing you. I just want to shut your whole program down. Everything...done.” Jonathan snapped, kicking him again. 

“That’ll never happen.” Ryan suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s leg and pulled, sending him sprawling to the hard floor. Jonathan winced in pain, kicking at Ryan as he tried to pin him down. Jonathan stretched his hand out for a fallen scalpel as he struggled against Ryan who managed to get his hands around his throat and began to squeeze. Gasping for air, Jonathan gripping the scalpel tightly, swinging it at Ryan. Blood splattered from the thin line that ran down his face. Jonathan kicked him off as he cried out in pain, rolling away from him to get to his feet. Blindly, Ryan reached for something to help him up, his hand reaching for the tablet on the table beside Tyler. He pressed his weight on his hand as he got up, not noticing which buttons he had just pressed and he didn’t care. Blood began to flow back into Tyler’s veins. “You got some fucking nerve! After everything I did for you!” Ryan yelled. “We could have made a great future for everyone!” He suddenly lunged at Jonathan, throwing him against the glass that shattered around him, the two falling onto the glass-covered floor. Jonathan let out a cry of pain as shards stuck into his back, small pieces digging into his hand that he had thrown out in an attempt to stop his fall. Dazed, he managed to hit Ryan who had managed to grab the scalpel, trying to stab it into Jonathan’s chest; instead, it dug deep into his wrist. Metal scraped against metal.  Jonathan grit his teeth, pulling his arm away from Ryan. Blood splattered to the glass. A sudden kick to his back made him cry out, falling face first onto the shards. Jonathan took a deep breath, his hands curling around longer shards of glass. As Ryan grabbed the back of his collar to pull him up, Jonathan spun, stabbing one of the shards into Ryan’s shoulder. He let go of Jonathan as he screamed in pain, staggering away from him. Jonathan took the opportunity to get to his feet, heaving for air. Both were bloody and bruised. Both wanted to end the other. 

“This isn’t going to end until you give in and do what I say, or you kill me.” Jonathan spat blood out of his mouth. “Your choice.” Ryan opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by a sudden gasp for air. They turned to see Tyler heaving for air, overwhelmed with fear and confusion. Jonathan suddenly ran towards Tyler, only to be tackled to the floor before he could reach him, a sharp, searing pain exploding from his shoulder. He fell, his chin hitting the hard cement as Ryan pulled the scalpel from Jonathan’s back. 

Though his ears rang, he could still hear Tyler’s frantic breathing. Jonathan rolled, wincing as he did to block a hit from Ryan and kicked him off. Ryan fell back onto the floor, blood oozing around him. Jonathan got to his feet slowly, every movement making him want to cry out in pain. Ryan looked up at the machine that stared down at him, too in pain now to get back up. 

“J-Jon...I-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Jonathan brought his foot down on Ryan’s head, knocking him out cold. Jonathan let out a small cry of pain and relief that it was done, his hands slowly uncurling from their bloody fists. Blood dripped to the floor from the deep cuts in his palms. He looked up from Ryan to see the soldier of himself standing on the other side of Ryan, blood that wasn’t his covering his hands and clothes. 

“J-J-Jon….” Tyler spluttered, bringing Jonathan back to the present. He turned and gently pulled Tyler into his arms, tears welling up in his eyes. “W-What happened to me…?” Tyler cried. “What happened to me?” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support for this fic! It has inspired me to keep writing and to continue to push myself as a writer too! This fic was a challenge for me, to weave everything together was a daunting task and I feel that I have done it the best I can! I know there might be a few questions remaining so if you have any, feel free to ask either here in the comments or on my twitter, @aqueenofokay! Also, go over there for little hints and updates about upcoming fics! Thank you again so so much for your support! It means the world! Enjoy the last chapter!

Glass crunched under Jonathan’s shoes. He wished he had his boots, for the polished shoes were riddled with holes, the once polished leather peeling away. His blue jacket was ripped at the shoulders, his white shirt bloodied and unbuttoned. As much as he had once hated this uniform, he felt slightly attached to it for it was the shell of the reality he had once known. Now bloody and bruised, in a reality that finally all made sense to him, Jonathan paced slightly, trying to decide what he must do next. He had no soldier to guide him, no God to whisper in his ear or a ghost to give him a riddle to solve.

A hand suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s hand, bringing him back to the present. He turned, meeting Tyler’s wide-eyed stare, his hands shaking with shock.

“I d-died...I was shot…” Tyler stammered. “I died...I don’t…” He trailed off, letting go of Jonathan’s hand. He was quiet for a long time, his bloodshot eyes down on the floor but they moved rapidly as if searching for something to explain everything. “I don’t understand…” Tyler said quietly. “What am I? Dead or alive? I don’t know…” Jonathan stepped towards Tyler, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“You’re like me...And Evan. You are both alive and dead...You are a living consciousness in a dead body. You’re a ma…” Jonathan stopped, knowing that what he was about to say would be the cruellest thing possible to ever be said to Tyler. Taking a deep breath, Jonathan knew he had to say it. “You are a machine.” The small cry of pain and shock that Tyler let out broke Jonathan’s heart.

“Oh...Oh God no...No…” Tyler shook his head, experiencing such a wide range of emotions that made Jonathan fearful of him freezing up. “Did you do this? Did you do this to me?” Tyler suddenly yelled, grabbing Jonathan’s collar. Jonathan stumbled back, almost landing on Evan’s body on the table behind him. The needles that had still been in Tyler’s arms were pulled out, blood and morphine dripping to the floor. “Were you so selfish?”

“Ohm did it! Me, Lui and Craig...We ran! We ran back to the truck but we couldn’t go any farther! We had to come back...to finish this! I have to get us out of here, past those men out there to signal Lui and Craig. I didn’t think that you would be...The three of us just decided that we had to do something and if it killed us all...well at least we did something for this world.” Jonathan explained frantically. Tyler stared at him, disbelief written across his face.

“You idiots…” Tyler said quietly, letting go of Jonathan’s bloody collar. He looked down at Ryan who lay bloody and unconscious on the glass covered floor, probably wishing it was him who beat him bloody than Jonathan. “I’ll help you.”

 

The doors to the front lobby suddenly swung open, two machines dragging the now slightly conscious body of Ohm behind them.

“Shit…” Four Zero said loud enough for the other two machines to hear.

“Fucking shoot them!” One of the others yelled raising his gun. A flash of sharp metal in the harsh light caught their attention, forcing Four Zero to raise his hand to stop the other. Jonathan held the scalpel to Ryan’s throat, keeping his face as calm as possible.

“Pull that trigger and I’ll do it. Don’t try me.” Jonathan snarled. “Drop your weapons.” No one moved. Tyler’s grip tightened on Ryan’s collar. Jonathan could hear Ryan’s shuddering inhale, each movement full of pain like it was for Jonathan. Four Zero shifted uncomfortably, not sure if he should tighten his grip on the trigger or not. Jonathan took a sharp breath, glancing at Tyler. “You killed Bryce because he wanted to be free.” Jonathan said, looking back at the others. “You killed him because you were following orders...I have a feeling that the want to be free is shared. Put down your guns...No one has to die today. We’ll go back to Old Town, we’ll make this right.”

“Make it right?” The one who had wanted to shoot them before yelled. “Do you know what you fucking did to New Towners? You killed us! We have no home!” He screamed at them. “Everyone is gone! My best friend fucking ran into the Wasteland and I don't think he's gonna stop until he dies!”

“Spoon.” Four Zero said sharply, the name sounding odd to Jonathan but such names had been common once in New Town.

“Ohm was going to fix it! Fix it all! Bring back our futures! Bring Smitty back out of the Wasteland! Bring us back from our guilt! Yeah, we fucked up! We did horrible things but do we deserve to live like prisoners? To die blamed for everything that happened? You were a New Towner, Jonathan! What you are doing to us, is what we did to you!” Spoon screamed, his voice breaking.

“You killed people!”

“We gave them new life! We gave them immortality like you have, Jonathan!” Spoon cried. The fact that he didn't say that Tyler had it now too unsettled him. “Isn't that the human dream? To live forever? To never have to fear what's on the other side of that door that is death? Why are we evil to you? Is what we did really that wrong?”

“You stole a human consciousness and made it mechanical! You put it in a machine!” Tyler yelled.

“How is that wrong?” Spoon yelled back. “Because some of your human parts have been replaced? Fuck, you probably thought Evan was human or reincarnated when you ran him over! You even thought that Jonathan was human but the minute you knew he wasn't human, you were scared! Your whole world was fucked! But why? Why is that wrong? He's sentient! Evan was kinda sentient! You are sentient, Tyler! You are human but have a machine for a heart! Is wrong because that is what you were told? Told to believe that it was wrong?”

“Shut up!” Tyler suddenly yelled, making Jonathan jump. He didn't want to admit that Spoon was right, but he couldn't say that he was wrong. Yes, New Town had put a wall between them and Old Town; told Old Towners that they couldn't have the luxuries that New Town had and New Town killed them...But was anyone right? Smitty wanted to keep walking, to find something to give purpose to what he had seen and done. Spoon was right, and Evan had even said it. He was immortal, an idea that could not be killed though he knew now that there were many ways to be immortal; that was how one lived forever in this world.

“There is always a price to pay for being immortal…It's always a sacrifice...Become the demon, the God, the ghost, the monster or the machine...Either way, you lose something that once made you...you.” Jonathan whispered, glancing at Tyler who seemed confused, unable to comprehend anything that was happening since he awoke. “Come back with us. Help us stop the violence...And we’ll find a way!”

“No...There is no way.” Spoon snapped and raised his gun, pulling the trigger. Jonathan and Tyler scrambled backwards, Spoon’s emotions getting the better of him. He couldn't hit them no matter how much he wanted to, his aim off. Spoon threw down his gun, letting out a cry of anger as he suddenly burst into a run towards them. Before Tyler and Jonathan could drop Ohm and brace themselves, Four Zero tackled Spoon to the white floor, the other men in the room looking on in shock and silence.

“It’s done! We’re done.” Four Zero said, holding him back from getting up. “Jonathan is right...He’s right. We’ll compromise...We’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll get Lui and Craig.” Jonathan said, slowly picking up the fallen gun and moved towards the front door. He pushed it open and fired three shots into the cold, dark sky. Walking to the gate through the snow, his footsteps bloody, Spoon’s words still floated through his mind. It starting to feel wrong to go back to a place that wasn't home anymore, to a place that wasn't the same just like he wasn't the same anymore.

“Shit...Jonathan are you okay?” Craig and Lui were running up to him, the blood on him glinting in the harsh white light.

“Did you actually do it?”

“Tyler’s alive...Well, not really alive but alive.” Jonathan breathed. “He's a machine like me and Evan.”

“Oh god.” Craig looked sick.

“Was it Ohm?” Lui whispered so no one could hear the grief in his voice. Jonathan nodded. Lui suddenly pushed passed him into the large base, storming towards the front doors. Craig remained still, his eyes on the snow.

“Of all the things that could have happened...this is the worst. Tyler won’t be happy anymore...He never thought that machines were right, that they were wrong in every way. Now he’ll think that about…” Craig trailed off into silence, the cold wind suddenly picking up to pull at their clothes and pinch their cheeks. Jonathan took a breath to say words that he knew wouldn’t help but stopped when Craig moved past him, following Lui into the base that had become haunted for all of them. Jonathan looked up at the dark clouds, wondering when it would snow again.

 

Jonathan had never wanted to burn down a building so bad before. He had burned the tower in New Town, his home, but hadn’t wanted to. It was what was right. Now, though, he was horrified and furious. Screens covered the far wall, each one full of details for machines that Ohm controlled; several were ready to attack what was left of Old Town. There was one for Evan that had gone dark, and another for Tyler. Most disturbing of all, there was one for him, listing off details about him such as current heart rate, how long he had been running, how long he had been consciousness. Jonathan watched his heart rate rise as he stared at the screens, barely able to comprehend what he was looking at. He knew that there would have been something like this, a screen that made him into nothing but numbers that got larger with every second, but he wasn’t ready to see it and it fully made him realise how different his world had become and how he didn’t belong in it like he used to.

“Turn it off. Turn it all off.” Lui suddenly snapped at Ryan, startling Jonathan out of his thoughts. Ryan, now as awake as he could be, glanced at Lui and shook his head.

“You don’t want it off.” Ryan muttered, spitting blood to the floor.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Lui’s hands curled into fists, clearly wanting to hit Ryan but he had been told repeatedly by Jonathan not to hit him anymore because the only way they do this without anyone dying, was to get him to go back with them alive, so the people of Old Town and what was left of New Town could decide what to do with him.

“It’s not just simply shutting down a system…” Four Zero said quietly, his eyes on his own screen. His gaze lowered to meet Jonathan’s, his eyes welling up with tears. “Every machine Ohm controls...shuts down.”

“There has to be a way around that! There is a way around it!” Craig suddenly yelled, looking up at Tyler who was still dazed, overwhelmed with everything that was happening around him.

“There isn’t a way.” Ryan said, his eyes narrowing on Craig. “I made it that way because I knew this would happen eventually...There is no winning this.”

“Fuck!” Craig ran a hand through his hair, turning away from the others. Jonathan couldn’t say a word, could do nothing but stare at the screen and watch his heart rate.

“You can’t reverse it? Can’t go in and override it?” Lui cried.

“No.” Ryan said. The machines around him remained silent, all three of them trying to make a decision that none of them, regardless of what they had fought for, thought they would have to make. They stared at the screens with their names on them, and the one that had gone dark, knowing that if they turned it off, they would go dark themselves.

“You should have listened.” Spoon spat. Jonathan slowly turned, wondering if he was talking about his outburst, or the ghost and the red-haired woman whose beloved had been turned into a machine.

“Turn it off…” Tyler whispered, his hands shaking. “This…” He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the mechanical heartbeat there. “Should be dead.”

“If he’s alive though and held captive, he can’t send the machines to attack! We don’t need to turn it off!” Craig cried, tears falling down his cheeks. “We can just leave!”

“How do you know that?” Ryan said calmly. “How do you know that you can just leave?”

“Don’t listen to him! He’s trying to get in your head!” Lui cried.

“Now is the time you should be listening to me. This is my system. I know the ins and outs of it!” Ryan raised his voice, annoyed now with everyone.

“You could just shoot him and that’s the end of it.” Attention went to Anthony, who hadn’t spoken a word since Tyler and Jonathan dragged Ryan into the foyer. “It doesn’t matter then, not our problem anymore. What we don’t know can’t hurt us. What we don’t know isn’t our fault.”

“But if you didn’t know...and something happened, say more people died; then that’s something you gotta live with because if you don’t use this time now to make a proper decision, then it’s all on you.” Ryan said sharply. “If you turn it off, you’ll know.”

“You’ll still have some fucking victory because three of us, including someone who was loyal to you, will be dead!” Lui yelled. “You’re a fucking monster!”

“That is what people will call you if you walk away with me dead because more people will die and it will be your fault.” Ryan snapped. Jonathan met Four Zero’s gaze. They both knew that Tyler would want to turn it off, but they didn’t know about each other. Jonathan and Scotty stared at each other, waiting. They wanted the other to make the decision that they could not. Finally, Scotty nodded.

“Turn it off.” Jonathan said, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“What?” Lui was shocked.

“Turn it off.”

 

Snow drifted from the slowly brightening sky. The wind would pick up and swirl the snow around in small flurries, sending the snowflakes dancing among the trees before they settled on the ground where the early morning light made them sparkle. If one looked closely, they might have seen footsteps leading to the spot where it seemed that a door had opened, sweeping the fresh snow to the side, and closed.

Jonathan stood by the gate, watching Lui, Craig, Spoon and Anthony pack up one of the trucks that had been at the base. Ryan sat still in the back, staring at Jonathan who wanted nothing to do with him. He had no power over him yet he couldn't help but wonder if the right thing had been done. Jonathan pushed the thought away for it was too late now. 

They had made Ryan turn off the main system first and the machines that were replicas of Evan. Then they said their goodbyes. They all knew that if the power somehow came back on they would be back, so they decided it would just be a long, deep and peaceful sleep. Jonathan didn’t belong in this world anymore, he had done all he could for it, and he hoped the next world would be kinder to everyone.

And so, one by one, their screens went dark. Yet as Scotty and Tyler shut down, gently lowered to the floor so they wouldn’t fall, Jonathan remained standing, staring at his dark screen and waiting for his world to go just as dark as it but nothing happened. Confusion followed by fear was written across Ryan’s face as he turned to look at him.

“You’re...You’re sentient…”

Now, Jonathan met Ryan’s gaze, giving him a bitter smile. In a way, they had won after all, though it hurt and would continue to hurt for a long time afterwards. Overhead, an eagle coasted on the wind.

“We’re ready.” Lui said, jumping down from the back and motioned for Jonathan to join him in the front. “Come on. It’s a long drive.”

“I’m not going.” Jonathan said, surprising all of them.

“W-What?” Craig jumped down from the back and stepped towards him. “I don’t understand. It was your idea to take Ryan and the rest of them back home! This isn’t because of the same reasons that you left us in the first place, right?”

“No...Well in a way but that isn’t home for me anymore. I don’t recognise that place as home and I barely recognise myself anymore. I have a lot to...to think about, about myself, about everything.” Jonathan explained. “I just can’t go back there. I don’t belong there anymore.”

“So you’re going to stay here then?” Lui looked horrified. Jonathan shook his head.

“No. Maybe only for a little bit. There is so much of this world that I want to see, Wasteland or not.”

“But you’ll be alone!”

“I don’t think so.” Jonathan shook his head. The ghost in the red jacket that stood behind him smiled slightly. “Because parts of me are machine...I can’t age or die...Not until they break down at least.” Jonathan sighed. He didn’t want to live forever, but he appreciated how much time he had. “Maybe I’ll go back there one day...I’ll find you. But for now...this world needs me.”

“You gotta do what’s right.” Lui smiled and gave him a hug. “We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Jonathan moved away and hugged Craig before waving to them as they turned away, heading back to the truck. Craig waved back as Lui started up the engine, the truck slowly starting down the snowy road. Jonathan watched them drive away till they turned the corner and were gone, only the faint sound of the engine still heard among the trees. Jonathan turned back and headed back inside the quiet base, inhabited by the dead.

He wandered among the halls, having nowhere to go in particular. He slowly made his way back to the room that Ohm had kept him in, finding his old clothes and the jacket with the faded owl patch. He changed out of the dirty blue suit, pulling on the darker and warmer clothes. He traced the thread on the owl patch before pulling the jacket on and laced up his boots. He found his pack in another room, the third owl patch still inside. He gathered up what he could find, including the letters from another life, and Evan’s letters to Tyler. He found some food but had no appetite because of what he had to do next before he could leave. Sitting down to think about it, Jonathan decided he would wait, instead wanting to sleep for a little bit. So he did. The next day, he wandered around the halls again, more like a ghost than a living being. He didn’t want to it today either or the day after that or the day after that. Finally, when he realised that if he was going to leave, he would need food and he couldn’t stay here forever, he decided it would be today.

Pushing open the door to the lab where the floor was covered in glass and dried blood, Jonathan took a deep breath. Evan’s body lay on the far metal table. In the reflection of the glass, the ghost in the red jacket watched Jonathan as he walked towards the table. He brushed Evan’s hair off his face and reached for a scalpel. He needed the blue chip, for he hoped that he could find another tablet somewhere, and bring him back, as the Vanoss-III.

 

The sun rose and it set and rose again. The wind blew or it would be completely still. It snowed, or it was a clear day. After walking for what must have been months, he wasn’t counting the days, Jonathan decided to walk south for he was sick of so much snow and there it rained. On his travels, he met people, some who had heard or were from Old Town, others who were born in Wasteland. None of them though looked like the friends he once had. For the first few months, Jonathan would see movement among the trees around him and he would smile for they were his ghosts but then they disappeared, not even visiting him in his dreams. He missed them, but his hand would curl around the consciousness chip in his pocket and he wouldn’t feel so alone despite the hours he had spent sobbing with his hands covered in blood on that glass covered floor after he took it out, the chip held tight in his bloody hand.

Sometimes he wondered if he would find Smitty and Marcel out in the Wasteland, wondering how he could tell him the story of how they stopped Ryan but he never did find him. If their paths crossed again, they never knew it.

One night, sitting by his campfire, Jonathan realised the thread of his owl patch was falling out. Remembering that he had seen the road to a large town a while ago, he started walking back towards it the next morning. A few days later, he reached it, walking down the road into the city. There were towers rising into the bright morning sky, the streets busy with people. This place seemed familiar. Wandering the streets, Jonathan wondered where he could get some gold thread. The thought occurred to him that maybe he could find a tablet here too and he would finally have Evan back.

It was then that he heard a laugh, rising among the crowd and louder than the other voices. He stopped, turning around to see where it came from. Then he saw them, walking in the direction that Jonathan had come. How could they have walked pass and he didn’t notice? Jonathan reached into his pack, finding the other two owl patches and hurried after them. He caught up to them, his hands shaking with excitement and fear. They wouldn’t recognise him, but he recognised them.

“Excuse me.” They stopped then, turning to look at him. Jonathan’s breath caught in his throat. “I know...I know this is a bit weird, but it would mean a lot to me if...if you had these.” He held the owl patches out to them. He knew that they might have different names now, but to him, Brock, Tyler and Evan smiled at him.

“Thank you. Did you make them?” Evan asked as he took the patches, running his fingers over the faded thread.

“A long time ago...yes.” Jonathan thought he would cry with happiness.

“Do...Do we know you?” Tyler wondered. Jonathan shook his head.

“No...But that’s okay.” Jonathan smiled. Snow caught on the breeze, swirling around them on the busy street. He met Evan’s gaze, fighting back his tears of joy. “This world needs you.” 


End file.
